


Glee Klaine Orphaned Stories

by Julesmonster



Series: Orphaned Stories [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Canon Compliant, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mpreg, Orphaned Works, See Chapters for individual warnings, multiple stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 06:39:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 166,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7564084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julesmonster/pseuds/Julesmonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are stories that I have, for one reason or another, decided that I'm not going to finish. I was tempted to simply delete them, but I really like some of the stories and would love to see someone adopt them and finish them. If you are interested in adopting a story, just let me know when you post it and link it back to this fic.</p><p>Each chapter is a different story and some are longer than others. I'll try to give a little summary for each chapter. All titles are working-titles only.</p><p>All of these stories revolve around Kurt and Blaine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dragons have gone into hiding but Kurt, with Blaine's help, holds the key to bringing them back. This is a story set in a distant future, post-pandemic, isolationist world.

Prologue

Dragons once ruled the Earth. They were smart, powerful, and lived for a very long time. They were survivors. When the dinosaurs faced extinctions, the dragons, found a way to survive. When the ice age came and destroyed hundreds of species, only two species thrived: man and dragon.

Men and dragons peacefully coexisted for many millennia. Dragons provided early man with fire and protection. In return, man worshipped the dragons and began cultivating livestock to provide the dragons with readily available food. Humans could not have evolved as quickly as they did without the dragons. They would not have begun keeping livestock, which led to growing grains to feed the livestock, which led to agriculture, which led to trade and industry and eventually technology.

This symbiotic relationship continued until the Dark Ages, when man's society was growing faster than their knowledge and Nature began to strike back in the form of the Plague and other deadly diseases. These diseases were caused by too many people living too closely without proper sanitation or hygiene. But one priest, who believed that people should not be worshiping anything but God and the saints of the Church, began to preach that the dragons were the agents of Satan and to blame for the Plague.

Humans often look for a scapegoat to blame when things don't go their way, or are beyond their understanding, and so the dragons were soon blamed for everything from illness to poor crop yields to bad breath. And the people began pestering their leaders to take action.

The result was that dragons were hunted. In just a few short years, more than a thousand dragons were killed.

Dragons were intelligent creatures, much more advanced than humans in their thinking but they were greatly outnumbered and rather solitary by nature. A lone dragon might be able to kill a hundred men, but a thousand men could overwhelm the dragon easily. Soon, the dragons realized that they needed to do something drastic or else face extinction. And so, the dragons gathered together and came up with a plan. They would take on the likeness of humans and live among them in secrecy until the day came that man's foolishness and arrogance caused their downfall. At that time, dragons would rise again.

And so, for nearly 2000 years, humans lived in ignorance of the dragons among them. Their historians wrote the tales of dragons off as legend and mythology. But the dragons, who were indeed wiser than humans, grew in strength and power and wealth, awaiting the day when they could again walk freely in their true forms.

BKBKBK

In the year 2053, two major events occurred which changed humanity forever. The first was the outbreak of the Terror Wars. The second was the outbreak of a pandemic virus. The concurrent timing of both events served to make the other more devastating, and the end result was total global devastation.

The Terror Wars were the result of nearly 100 years of fighting over oil fields as well as religious and ideological differences. The Western countries depended on Middle Eastern oil, but the Middle Eastern countries despised the way that the Western nations were spreading their ideologies. They preferred to keep with their old traditions, which included the repression of women and death to anyone who disagreed with them or didn't follow their religion. What began as small terrorist attacks in the 1970's grew in frequency and size until global war was declared in 2053. 

Some believed that the Pandemic virus was actually begun as a biological weapon in the Terror Wars, but there was never any evidence to confirm that belief. Scientists were eventually able to trace the viral outbreak back to Madagascar, where there was a major encampment of military forces from all over Europe and North America, but they could not prove that the camp was infected with the virus deliberately.

The military personnel, when they began to get sick, were sent home. Thus, the virus was spread to two other continents. Because international trade and tourism was so easy at that time, despite the war, and because this virus had a relatively mild first wave, followed by a dormancy period of almost two weeks, ending with a much stronger second wave that killed more than 95% of those infected, people quickly spread the disease around the world.

Within a month after the first case was reported, between those killed directly by the war and those killed by the virus, the global population had dropped by 12%. Within a year, the population had dropped by 69%. And two years out, the world population was just 2% of what it had been before the pandemic. There was almost nothing left of society.

Dragons were immune to the virus and saw their opportunity to once again be free. Dragon scientists used their blood to develop a vaccine that saved the humans from extinction. As a result, dragons were no longer so drastically outnumbered and should have once again been free to live openly and in harmony with humanity. Only problem was that over 2000 years, they had forgotten the magic that allowed them to change shapes.

Dragons in human form could only live as long as a human, so, while a dragon in true form could live for a thousand years, one living as a human only lived about a hundred. In the many generations since the dragons changed to human form, the dragons became so assimilated into human culture that they allowed their own traditions and history to fall by the wayside. That included the magic that had once been innate, almost instinctual to every dragon. But there was hope. The only living ancient dragon, one of the three who had refused to take on human form and was forced to hide from humanity for two millennia, promised the old families that there was a failsafe built into the original spell. When the time was right, a key would come that would unlock the ability to shift between forms.

Disappointed but determined to prepare for that day, they vowed to rein in the human desire to dominate by providing them with a safe and peaceful society. This goal was helped by the fact that the vaccine had an unexpected side effect: it limited how many offspring the humans could have, so that humanity could never so thoroughly outnumber the dragons again. And the dragons, always among the most successful in society, used their positions to rebuild the world to reflect their changed desires and goals. They no longer wished to be allowed to live a life of solitude: they preferred to be around others, both human and dragon. They liked the luxuries of human life, but could see that humanity had chosen comfort over the good of the planet and that Nature had begun to strike back in the form of the virus, and so set about finding ways to live comfortably without destroying the planet. 

The dragons kept some technologies and discarded others. They preserved art and culture, but only as it benefitted the community, banning any personal gain from the buying or selling of anything artistic except for the artists themselves. They kept computers but localized their communications capabilities; any communication that went beyond the boundaries of the new regional governments--almost exclusively run by dragons--had to be monitored and sent via the province's communication's office. They banned all combustion engines, and developed better means of generating energy, thereby negating the need for fossil fuels and cleaning up the pollution. And they limited travel, to prevent another pandemic. 

Within a century, the dragons had built a much better world and were firmly established as the benevolent leaders of humanity. But three centuries after the Pandemic, the dragons were still waiting for the key.

Part One

"Why are you reading a history paper from year seven?" Rachel asked her friend with a frown. "I thought we were going through all your stuff so we can sort and pack it?"

Kurt set aside the paper and sighed. "I just get caught up. There are so many memories here. Do you remember that year? That was when I got so caught up in 21st century technology."

"I remember you wanting to build a combustion engine and your dad telling you no," Rachel said.

"He said that not only was it illegal, but we had no way to fuel a combustion engine," Kurt recalled. "And he was right. But that didn't stop me from being obsessed."

"What's not to obsess about?" Rachel asked. "They had so many frivolous industries that it must have been a lot of fun to live back then. There were people who were paid a fortune just to sing, or act, or dance."

"And the fashions," Kurt sighed. "I would have been an amazing fashion designer if I had lived then."

"You're an amazing designer now," Rachel corrected him. "It might not be fashion, but just look at all the stuff you've invented and designed in your father's shop."

Kurt shrugged. "I know, and I love working with the transports and generators, but there was something's glamorous about those times that we don't have now."

"Well, we may not be as glamorous, but we at least don't have to worry about war and diseases that wipe out billions of people," Rachel told him. "Plus we do still have music and fashion and drama. It's just on a smaller scale."

"Do you think you'll get the job directing the Community theater when Mr. Schuster moves to Carmel?" Kurt wondered. "I think you should."

"If only you were the one who makes the decisions," Rachel said wistfully. "Mr. Schuster has recommended me to the village council, but I don't know if it will make a difference. I'm about 10 years younger than any other director in the history of the theater."

"If they're smart, they won't let that stop them," Kurt said. "You just have to make them see it."

"Is that what you plan to do when you interview for the governor's chief engineer?" Rachel asked. "Because that's a cabinet post, and I bet that there are a hundred people lined up to get the job, all of them a lot older."

Kurt tossed the history paper into the box designated for storage and dusted off his hands. "I'm the only one applying who can actually do what they need done. And yes, I will tell them that. Now, I think we've earned a break. Let's get some lemonade."

BKBKBK

"Mr. Hummel, you are well below the average age of applicants for this job, what makes you more qualified than them?" 

Kurt looked directly into the eyes of the dragon who asked the question. He wasn't quite sure how he knew that the man was a dragon, there was no outward sign and many dragons didn't even know themselves, but Kurt did know, just like he knew that particular man would never attain his dragon form.

The dragon was one of five people on the Governor's selection committee to choose the next Minister of Engineering for the province, but the only dragon. An hour into the interview, and he had asked Kurt all but one of the questions. The only other person to speak had asked him his name and where he was from before the hard questions had begun. But, despite the fact that the gray-haired dragon in the center was the most vocal, Kurt didn't think he was the one with the most power. There was another dragon in the shadows, near the doorway, that Kurt was almost positive had more say in who would be hired than the five people on the panel before him put together.

Kurt looked toward the dragon in the shadows and answered, "Let's cut to the chase here. This province is at least a decade behind the other provinces in North America as far electrical engineering is concerned. We may excel in agriculture and medicine, but we're lagging behind in other industries. Since the Pandemic, all nations and provinces are expected to be as self-sustaining as possible. As it stands, we cannot provide enough electricity to meet the needs of the people, let alone the various industries. And our transports are inefficient, slow, and outdated. Mr. Brightman was a genius in his youth, but for the last 20 years, he has become paranoid and refused to adopt any breakthroughs that others have developed.

"In this province, there are 118 master electrical engineers. Of them, only 22 are also masters in transport engineering. 12 of the 22 are within 5 years of retirement. That leaves 10 qualified based solely on longevity, certification and education. 

"Johansen, Engels and Brigham all have children that they don't want to uproot. Masterson and McDaniels are both excellent mentors and are currently bringing up a new generation of masters, which are desperately needed since Brightman also failed to successfully mentor anyone for the last 25 years. Rivera and Braun were the last two mentored by Brightman and have inherited many of his worst habits, including the desire to do it all themselves and ignoring what others have brought to the table. Jackson and Choi are the opposite: they don't have any good ideas of their own, so they rely solely on the work of others.

"Then there's me," Kurt said. He was still looking at the dragon in the shadows, but he glanced at the committee. They seemed like they were in shock that anyone would be audacious enough to be honest in an interview. "I may be young, but I've held my mastery in transports since I was 15 and in electrical engineering since I was 17. I have 6 separate designs that have been recognized by the international scientific community as breakthroughs in the field. I have 18 patents on record and 6 more waiting for approval. I have mentored 3 apprentices already, and all three have just passed their masteries. The only way you will find anyone more qualified would be if you looked outside the province, and even then, you would likely have to steal someone away from another governor. I may be young, but I am the best candidate for this post. Which is why you invited me here."

There was an uproar when Kurt finished, but his eyes were focussed on the dragon in the shadows. That dragon clapped quietly before turning and leaving the room.

Over the noise, the older dragon on the panel said, "Thank you, Mr. Hummel. We'll let you know the council's decision."

BKBKBK

Kurt had a message waiting at the inn when he returned. He got the job.

BKBKBK

Kurt Hummel had always known he was meant for more than the simple village life that his father loved. Burt Hummel was a great technician, and ran one of the best electrical shops in the province, but he never aspired for more than that. Kurt, on the other hand, knew that he was made for greater things. And so, he had sought out masteries in both fields which his father's shop served. He had to spend long hours on the computer with his mentor, arranging for the trans-provincial connection time through the provincial communications office, so that he would have the best training available. All in the hopes that one day, he would be able to leave his small village behind.

Lima was not a bad place, but the tolerances of the young people Kurt had grown up with were certainly limited. To say that he was different was an understatement. He dressed differently. He talked differently. His voice had never dropped when he went through puberty. He carried himself differently. And so the other young people in town treated him differently.

Bullying was not allowed. Kurt was fascinated by Pre-Pandemic history and knew that there had been a time when he would have been singled out and tormented by his peers, but thankfully those days were long in the past. That didn't mean that his peers had to accept him, however; they just couldn't hurt him. Kurt had spent a lot of years feeling isolated and alone, shunned by people just because he didn't match some stereotype they had in their minds as what was acceptable. Even at his father's shop, he was relegated to the workroom most of the time because customers didn't know how to react to him.

But now, Kurt had the chance to move from his small village to the largest city in the province and run the most important shop in the province. He would interact with politicians and businessmen and scientists as an equal and Kurt couldn't wait.

A week after getting the post, Burt Hummel--Kurt's father--and Finn--Kurt's stepbrother--followed Kurt down to Westerville to help him move. As the Minister of Engineering, Kurt was assigned a house on the governor's compound. The house was set back off the road, in heavily wooded portion of the enormous compound, in a beautiful glade. It was actually more of a cottage than a house, but Kurt fell in love with it the minute he saw it. It had a large front porch that ran the length of the house and overlooked a small pond and stream. On one side of the front entry, there was a porch swing rocking gently in the breeze, and on the other side, there was a wicker seating area with a sofa, two chairs, and two side tables. The seats and swing all had blue and white striped cushions that complimented the blue clapboard siding and white trim of the cottage.

The interior of the cottage was furnished as well, and a lot bigger than it looked from the outside. The living spaces were open and flowed easily into each other. The first floor consisted of a seating area, a small dining table with four chairs around it, a kitchen in one corner, a mudroom off the kitchen and a serviceable bathroom in the other back corner. The mudroom led to a covered portico between the main house and the transport garage. Kurt could easily fit three transports in that garage and at least two of the cottages.

Up a set of steep stairs, the main loft was larger than Kurt had expected. It overlooked the rest of the house and contained a bed big enough for two people as well as a dresser and closet. In a smaller loft on the other side of the living area, above the dining area, Kurt found another small sitting area with bookshelves and a Murphy bed for guests. In all, it was about an average size house and more than Kurt had expected. Only houses built before the Pandemic were larger, and there were very few of those left as they used a lot more energy to heat and cool.

With three of them working together, it didn't take long to get all of Kurt's possessions unloaded and unpacked. 

"You have food!" Finn announced as he rummaged through the refrigerator.

Burt rolled his eyes at his stepson, who always seemed to be hungry. "Good. Why don't you make sandwiches for all of us while Kurt and I check out the grounds?"

Finn looked ready to object but reconsidered when he saw Burt's face. So Kurt and Burt headed out the sliding glass door in the great room. 

They landed on a pretty big patio that led up to a good sized pool. It was designed to look natural, as though it was a part of the woods that surrounded the house. It was big enough to swim laps, and deep enough to dive from the outcropping rocks on one end. The outdoor living space was luxurious, and Kurt knew that it was a sign of his high position in the provincial government.

In addition to the pool, there was an outdoor kitchen and several seating areas around the patio. There wasn't much lawn back there, but the huge grassy areas to the front and side of the house made up for any lack in the back. Between the two areas, he had more grass than the high school back in Lima.

"This is a lot of land to take care of," Burt commented as he took a seat on one of the sofas overlooking the pool. "Enough land for a dragon."

Kurt shrugged and sat beside him. "We can't really know how big I'll be when I finally figure out how to change," Kurt reminded his father. "The last full dragon died more than two hundred years ago and the stories vary about how big he was."

"Yeah," Burt nodded slowly. "I guess I'm just worried that you'll get lonely out here on your own. You've never been good at making new friends."

"I worry about that too," Kurt admitted. "But I'll have the same issues no matter where I live. At least here I'm really close to work and Westerville is right beyond the compound gates. And I'm only half a day away from Lima if I want to visit. Or you want to visit me."

"You certainly have the room," Burt snorted.

"Please don't worry about me," Kurt pleaded.

Burt pulled his son into a one-armed hug. "I'm always gonna worry about you. But that doesn't mean that I don't think that you're capable of doing this. It just means you'll always be my little boy."

BKBKBK

Burt and Finn left after they ate. It was a long drive back to Lima, and it was always safer to travel in the daylight when you could see the huge potholes. The condition of the roads in the province were part of what Kurt was determined to improve. The villages were responsible for maintaining the roads in their community and generally did a good job, but the province was supposed to maintain the roads between villages. Kurt couldn't remember the last time any crews came to his village to fix the provincial roads. The excuse his predecessor used was that it was too expensive to do the work, but Kurt knew that there were new low-cost, low-maintenance materials that would make replacing the roads more doable. He just needed to put the details together and get the approval from the provincial comptroller. 

Kurt had a hundred things on his list of things to do when he actually started work. He needed to review all the current systems and see where they were failing, because they were failing. And then he needed to start planning how he was going to fix everything without shutting down the entire province's electrical grid. 

Rather than sitting around dwelling on what he knew needed to be done, but couldn't do yet, Kurt went out to the garage. He had parked his transport in the garage earlier and wanted to replace the standard charging system with the one he had designed himself. It worked more efficiently with the larger capacity battery that took less space that he had designed. 

Once Kurt had plugged in his transport, he went to the trailer his father and Finn had parked in the second bay. On the trailer was his scooter, his cart, and two experimental motors. It took a little time to get the scooter and cart unloaded and plugged in, but once they were, he began setting up his personal workshop in the third bay. Having his workshop unpacked helped Kurt feel a little more at home, even more than having his wardrobe hanging in the closet.

BKBKBK

"What is that?"

Kurt put the parking brake in place and faced the woman who had been awaiting his arrival. "That is a utility cart. I designed it based on several 21st century vehicles--most notably the golf carts and the all-terrain vehicles of that time--and added a few modern touches."

The woman walked around the vehicle and noted the special wheels that could be used either on or off paved roads, the open-air seating with a canopy, tow bar and winch, and the bed to haul materials that was currently filled with boxes. "Impressive. Horse power?"

"Just under 500," Kurt told her with no small amount of pride. He had worked very hard to get that much horsepower from such a small motor without burning out the battery.

"Amazing," the woman said with a nod. "I guess that's why you were hired to run this joint. I'm Charlie, by the way. I'm your assistant. Not for the engineering stuff. For the administrative stuff."

"Charlie?" Kurt asked with surprise. "Is that short for something?"

"Nope," she grinned. "My dad just wanted to name me after his father. Confused the heck out of my teachers in school and there was more than one incident with being put into the wrong cabin at summer camp."

"Okay," Kurt said slowly. "Well, I assume you're out here to greet me and show me to my office?"

"Yep," Charlie agreed. "We can either head inside to the offices and I'll have one of the guys move your vehicle around to the workshop, or we can drive to the workshop and go from there."

Kurt considered his options for less than a second before deciding he wasn't ready to let a stranger drive his cart. "Let's drive."

Charlie turned out to be a huge transport buff, and was eager to hear about any modifications Kurt had made to traditional transport designs. She had been working in the Ministry for Engineering for five years and was thrilled to see new blood coming in to take over. 

That being said, she knew everyone in Kurt's employ and had a good handle on their strengths, their weaknesses and their loyalties. She may not have been an engineer herself, but Kurt could tell after a single morning in her company that she would be invaluable to him as an assistant.

In the Ministry for Engineering, there were actually several workshops and it took most of the day to tour the facilities. There was the transport research workshop, the transport manufacturing shop, the transport repair shop, the electrical research shop, the generator production shop, and the generator repair shop. The generator repair shop was mostly storage of tools, parts and the utility transports used to go out and repair the massive generators in the field.

Kurt's office was in a small building between the two research workshops. The three transport shops were in a row to the west of the administrative building and the three electrical shops were to the east. All seven buildings were connected by second story walkways, so in the worst of the winter weather, Kurt would not actually have to go outside to oversee any aspect of the operation. 

That first day, Kurt toured the operations. The second day, he began meeting with the key players on his team. Some of the key roles were filled with people who were loyal to Kurt's predecessor. Kurt didn't like having to fire anyone but he gave them all the same chance to prove themselves. Everyone had six months to show that they could not only do their job, but do it well and bring fresh ideas to the table. Anyone who failed to do so would face either unemployment or demotion.

Kurt knew that the pronouncement seemed harsh, but he had very good reasons for being so stern. His age truly was a strike against him; not just with those who had interviewed him, but for those who now worked for him. Any perceived weakness could cause him to loose the respect of his people. One thing Kurt had learned from his father was that you didn't have to be a tough guy... you just had to make people believe you were. For Burt, he looked tough, even though Kurt knew he was a big teddy bear. For Kurt, he had to work a little harder and use a little more strategy to gain respect.

Charlie reported that Kurt's attempts were mostly successful. There was still a sense that the workers wanted to see him prove his abilities. And Kurt was happy to do so. He started with introducing his designs--designs that more than tripled the energy output of generators and reduced the energy use of transports by half--to the manufacturing teams. That was followed by plans to retrofit some of his improvements to the generators and transports already in use. 

Within a month of his arrival, Kurt's changes had increased the electricity generated by 73% and reduced the electricity used by the provincial fleet of transports by 66%. As the results became clear, Charlie reported that there was a renewed energy and excitement among the men and women working for him. Kurt saw that for himself as more and more people began to bring him ideas.

Kurt, pleased to see innovation and creativity blossoming among his team, was happy to not only praise the workers, but implement the improvements. If the lowliest technician in the transport repair garage had an idea on how to improve the rate that transports could be fixed or if the head of generator research had a new design for hydro-generators, Kurt let him set up a trial. If it worked, then the new design or procedure would be adopted. It was a very democratic system of management and the workers responded favorably.

Or most of the workers responded favorably. There were a few hold outs from Brightman's favorites. They didn't want to change and they didn't want anyone or anything around them to change. So every new idea was taken as an insult to their idol. Kurt was just waiting for the day when they took their grumblings to the Provincial Council. 

It took less time than Kurt had thought it would.

Three months to the day after his arrival in Westerville, Charlie heard through the grapevine that the Brightman Brigade, as Charlie had dubbed them, had finally put their complaints in writing and taken them to the Council.

The next morning, just as Kurt was finishing up a meeting with his research department heads, Charlie let him know that there was a member of the Council waiting to meet with him in his office. Kurt chose not to rush the end of his meeting for an unscheduled visit, no matter who the visitor was, and so it was nearly twenty minutes later that Kurt left the meeting room and headed back to his office.

Charlie met him with a cup of coffee and a panicked look on her face. "I can't believe you kept a Council member waiting! Are you crazy?"

Kurt took a sip of the coffee and sighed. "No. That meeting was very important if we're going to be prepared to launch the new geothermal generator tests before winter sets in. I'm assuming that the Council member is smart enough to realize that increasing our energy output so that we can power our industries year-round and at full capacity without destroying our environment takes precedent. And if he didn't before, I suppose he does now."

"Shh!" Charlie scolded with wide eyes. "What if he hears you?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I wasn't hired because I sucked up to the hiring committee, Charlie. I was hired because I could make radical changes to a failing industry, one that affects every single person in this Province. I'm making those changes. So whoever you are so afraid of will just have to get used to my way of doing things. And so will you."

Kurt ignored Charlie's spluttering and entered his office, to find the Council member smiling with amusement just inside the door. Kurt was frozen momentarily by the sight of the man. He had the most captivating hazel eyes Kurt had ever seen. But Kurt couldn't get lost in his eyes...not yet at least. There would be time enough for that later.

Because Kurt was certain of two things as he closed his office door behind him: one, that this man was a dragon on the verge of emerging for the first time; and two, that he was Kurt's mate.

Part Two

"Mr. Hummel, it's a pleasure to meet you in person," the man said, the small smile lingering.

"You were at my interview with the hiring committee," Kurt blurted out as soon as the thought flashed in his mind.

The man gave him a curious look, his forehead slightly scrunched and his head tilted inquisitively. "How did you know that?"

Kurt hesitated for just a moment. He had never told anyone outside of his parents about his abilities, for good reasons, but this man... Kurt knew instinctively that he could and should trust him. He was somehow closely linked to Kurt's ability to transform.

"I could sense you," Kurt stated boldly. "I can always tell when there's a dragon nearby."

The man took a small step back. "That's... dragons aren't real. They're just creatures from fairy tales."

Kurt looked closely at the man and just knew he was lying. "You don't believe that. You believe in dragons."

"I..."

Kurt took a step forward and the man took another step back. Kurt suddenly realized that he had backed his visitor into a corner. He took a step back and then another until he was behind his desk and safely out of reach. "I'm sorry. Maybe we should start over again. I'm Kurt Hummel, and you are?"

The man took a deep breath and stepped forward. When he reached the near side of Kurt's desk, he reached out his hand to shake. "I'm Blaine Anderson."

Kurt clasped the proffered hand, and there was an immediate spark of... (recognition, lust, magnetism, synchronicity, two souls separated by fate finally being reunited)... electricity. Their eyes connected and there was a shared knowledge between them, even as they reluctantly let go and allowed their hands to fall back to their sides. Kurt practically fell into his chair and motioned for Blaine to have a seat as well. Blaine's knees seemed to collapse beneath him.

"I should have known," Kurt said slightly breathlessly, his eyes never leaving Blaine's "You look just like your father."

"Except for the curls," Blaine said as though by rote, still too lost in the lingering feeling of whatever had just happened to do much beyond that. "That's all Mom."

"I've seen enough photos of you and your family in the media that it should have been obvious," Kurt said, only slowly coming back to himself. "The governor's son... Are you the reason the committee hired me?"

That brought Blaine up short and he sat up a little straighter. "Actually, no. I did go to my father with my opinion later that evening, but he told me that the committee had already chosen you. He said that while Bernard, the head of the committee, was put off by your blunt nature, the rest of the committee was unanimous in their support."

"Oh," Kurt said thoughtfully. "He's a dragon too. But he'll never transform."

Blaine blinked. "You know who... you know if a person will be able to take their dragon form? You know... But then... that means... does that mean it'll be soon?"

Kurt nodded just once. "I'll be the first, and then others will change."

Blaine took a deep breath. "Will I?"

Kurt grinned at him. "You'll be right after me."

Blaine let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and slumped back into his chair again. "Thank god. When?"

"I have no idea," Kurt said.

"How?" Blaine asked.

"I have no idea," Kurt repeated. "I've always been able to sense dragons. My mother's family passed down a story through the generations that there would come a day when one of their kin could sense other dragons in human form. When that child came, he would be the catalyst for the return of the dragons. Beyond that, I don't know much of anything, only what I can sense."

"But you can sense that it will happen soon?" Blaine asked, getting really excited now.

Kurt nodded. "And you are somehow involved, I just don't know how. But this isn't the time or place for that discussion. I'm sure you had another reason for. Visiting me."


	2. Funeral Wake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaine is hired to play at a wake where he meets Kurt, the grieving widower.

A gig is a gig, Blaine Anderson firmly told himself as he waited for the security guard to unlock the penthouse level of the elevator. A gig is a gig. And this gig not only paid good money but would likely have numerous people in the music and entertainment industries in attendance. The fact that it was a wake should not matter.

Blaine reached the top floor of the very posh 5th Avenue apartment building and stepped into the small entry. There was only one apartment on this floor and Blaine had just reached up to knock when the door was flung open.

"You must be Blaine," the most beautiful man in the world said with a tight smile. He had chestnut hair and flawless skin and blue eyes that seemed to shift colors even as Blaine got lost in them. Eyes that were rimmed with red from crying.

"Yes," Blaine said. "And you must be Kurt Hummel-Langdon. My condolences on your loss."

"Thank you," Kurt said as he turned to lead Blaine through the luxurious apartment. "I've had the piano moved from the music room into the living room for today. There is a microphone set up as well. The guests should begin arriving in the next half hour, so you have time to get acquainted with everything."

"Um, is there anything in particular you'd like me to play?" Blaine asked as he looked over the concert grand piano. It was nicer than any instrument he'd gotten to use since graduating from Julliard. "Or anything you don't want?"

Kurt gave him a look, sizing him up. "You're in the music business, even if you haven't gotten your big break yet, so I'm sure you know who my husband was. That being said, James loved all kinds of music, everything from classical to jazz to show tunes to pop. I know that this is a wake, but I think James would have preferred that the music be just as eclectic as his tastes were. There's no need for morbid funeral dirges. I suffered through enough of that this afternoon."

"Okay," Blaine said with a nod. "Well, if you think of a specific request later, I'm sure you'll let me know."

Kurt nodded. "I'll have one of the catering staff make sure you get drinks and set aside a plate for you. You can eat after the wake is finished."

Blaine nodded again and settled in at the piano. Kurt wandered away as Blaine pulled his iPad from his messenger bag. He had all sorts of sheet music stored on it and could download new songs in seconds. Not that he would need it for much. He could play most things either by heart or by ear. He began warming up, running through a few bars of a Katy Perry song and then drifting into a jazz piece he had written in college and then to a Chopin piece before finally settling on Mame. He glanced up and noticed that Kurt had paused in the doorway and was watching him. When Kurt saw that Blaine had caught his stare, he turned and left.

GLEE

The wake wasn't like any that Blaine had been been to before. Not that he had attended many wakes in his 25 years of life. There was his grandmother's and a distant cousin who was killed in a car accident. That was it. But both of those wakes had been solemn and filled with hushed conversations and more than a few tears. This wake was nothing like that. There was still a sense of gravity to the occasion, but there were no tears. The only evidence that Blaine could see of grief were the slightly red eyes of the host. Even so, Kurt kept a tight smile for each of his guests and chatted with them politely. From his position behind the piano, Blaine could tell that most of the guests were either business connections or other acquaintances of the deceased. There were few personal friends of either the dead man or his husband in attendance.

Blaine sipped from his glass of ice water between songs and considered how sad it was that a man who was so well respected in his work, had so little to show for his life.

He also considered his host. Kurt Hummel-Langdon could only be a year or two older than Blaine, and yet he had married a man almost twice his age. Blaine's first impression of the man didn't lead him to believe that he was a gold-digger, so what reason could he have for marrying a man so much older? It was obvious that he was mourning for his husband, so he must have loved him, but it just seemed like such an unlikely pairing.

Thinking of Kurt, Blaine set his water aside and began to play one of his own songs. For some reason, he wanted Kurt to hear the words.

I've been alone  
Surrounded by darkness  
I've seen how heartless  
The world can be

I've seen you crying  
You felt like it's hopeless  
I'll always do my best  
To make you see

Baby, you're not alone  
'Cause you're here with me  
And nothing's ever gonna bring us down  
'Cause nothing can keep me from lovin' you  
And you know it's true  
It don't matter what'll come to be  
Our love is all we need to make it through...

Blaine saw from the corner of his eye that Kurt had stopped talking and was watching him, listening. Blaine looked into his eyes and sang the words from his heart. He knew that the words were written to a lover, but in those moments, Blaine was more concerned that this beautiful man who was holding so much sadness in his heart, knew that despite the fact that it seemed like there was no one here for him, that he wasn't alone.

 

I still have trouble  
I trip and stumble  
Trying to make sense of things sometimes...

I look for reasons  
But I don't need 'em  
All I need is to look in your eyes  
And I realize...

Baby, I'm not alone  
'Cause you're here with me  
And nothing's ever gonna take us down  
'Cause nothing can keep me from lovin' you  
And you know it's true  
It don't matter what'll come to be  
Our love is all we need to make it through...

Oh, 'cause you're here with me  
And nothing's ever gonna bring us down  
Cause nothing, nothing, nothing  
Can keep me from lovin' you  
And you know it's true  
It don't matter what'll come to be  
You know our love is all we need

Our love is all we need  
To make it through...

When the last notes of the song faded away, Blaine was surprised to hear applause. He hadn't noticed that almost everyone in the penthouse had come to listen to his impassioned song. He had only had eyes for Kurt, who quickly disappeared from the room.

Blaine smiled tightly at the people around him and went back to playing. 

A couple songs later, a woman approached him. "You should play more of your original stuff."

Blaine smiled politely at the woman he recognized to be rather influential in the music business and then began the first few measures of Jealousy. He would be insane to pass up this opportunity to be noticed for his own work. He followed that with To Have a Home, Even Though and finally ended his mini concert with Don't You. He sang each song with feeling but he was thinking inside his head about the fact that Kurt had not yet returned to the party. 

Rather than continuing on with the alternative-folk-rock style he favored most of the time, Blaine turned to a series of his own jazz instrumental pieces. The shift in music seemed to trigger a shift in the party as well. Though there were a number of people still listening to him play or talking, several guests began to head out. Blaine caught sight of Kurt finally; he was at the door, thanking his guests for coming. 

It took nearly another hour for the rest of the guests to leave. Blaine was just getting his iPad put back into his messenger bag when the same woman from before came up to him and handed him her card. A few minutes of discussion and he was told to call her to set up an appointment. A day ago, he would have been bouncing around like a kid hopped up on too much sugar, but just then, he was more concerned with the host of the party.

Kurt himself brought out the promised plate of food a moment after the woman left and took a seat on the opposite end of one of the sleek white leather sofas from Blaine. 

"I saw Muriel give you her card," Kurt said. "So I guess someone got something positive out of today."

Blaine was ready to apologize, but Kurt cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Don't. You're very good, and someday when everyone knows the name Blaine Anderson I'll be able to brag to everyone how I was the person who discovered you."

"I don't know about that," Blaine said demurely. 

"I do," Kurt said musingly. "Why did you sing that song to me?"

Blaine set aside his plate of food and looked at Kurt. "I don't know. I know I don't know you and know absolutely nothing about your life, but there was something... You just looked so sad and alone, even in a room overflowing with people. I wanted... I guess I just wanted you to know that you don't have to be alone."

Kurt nodded slowly and Blaine saw a single tear escape from his eye. "Thank you."

"I know I'm a complete stranger, but, if you need a friendly ear, I'm more than willing to listen," Blaine said. "Any time."

Kurt looked at Blaine again and shook his head. "What is it about you that draws me in and makes me want to trust you?"

Blaine smiled wryly. "I've just got that kind of face, I guess."

Kurt looked down at Blaine's barely touched plate. "You've worked really hard today and I've had a shit week. I think we both deserve something a lot better than cold hors d'oeuvres. How about I take you to dinner? Unless you have plans?"

Blaine blinked. "No, no plans. I should just... call my roommate and let him know I'll be later than I said."

"You do that while I get your check and get rid of the caterers," Kurt said. "Then I'll take you to this place I found that has the very best Italian food in the city."

GLEE

It didn't take long to get to the tiny restaurant. It was on a side street and seemed to be frequented by only those in the know, but Blaine had to admit that the food was great. After a couple glasses of wine and a great meal, he was feeling very mellow.

"Would you like to go to the park?" Kurt asked after paying their bill. "We could walk off some of this rich food."

"Sounds good," Blaine said. He had to remind himself that this wasn't a date, even though there was a very big part of him that wished it was. 

They walked in a comfortable silence until they reached the edge of Central Park. That time of evening, there were few others out to disturb them. It wasn't until they had reached the Glasgow Bridge, however, that Kurt began to speak.

"I loved my husband," Kurt said quietly. "But I was never in love with him. Most people assume I married him for his money, and I suppose there is some grain of truth to that. It's certainly the reason we met and I stuck around in the beginning. But that wasn't the whole story."

"You don't have to tell me if it's too painful," Blaine said.

Kurt shook his head. "Like I said, for some reason I trust you. And for me, that's saying something. I don't trust many people. I suppose that comes from a rather difficult childhood that didn't get much better when I was an adult. You see, I grew up in a small town in Ohio, a town where being different was enough to justify bullying and hate. And I was always different. Not just my sexuality, but the way I spoke and the way I dressed... Everything about me was different.

"When I was very young, my mother used to tell me that it was my differences that made me special," Kurt continued quietly. "And I believed her."

"She was right," Blaine offered. 

"Maybe," Kurt said thoughtfully. "But it didn't make life in Lima any easier. And then she died, leaving me and my father alone to muddle through. My dad was great. He loved me unconditionally. Even though I know it wasn't easy for him to raise a gay son, especially in a bigoted town like Lima. But he never asked me to be anything that I wasn't. When I came out to him, he said he'd always known and it didn't matter to him."

"Sounds like a great father," Blaine said. "My parents still haven't figured out that it shouldn't matter."

Kurt smiled sadly at Blaine. "I'm grateful for every day that I had with my dad."

"What happened to him?" Blaine asked carefully.

"My senior year of high school, he had a heart attack," Kurt said quietly. "It was his second and it killed him. I had done everything I could to make sure he was eating right and exercising and following all of the doctor's orders after the first heart attack, but it didn't make a difference in the end."

"I'm sorry," Blaine said quietly.

Kurt shook his head as though shaking off that remembered grief. "It was hard. Very hard. I was 18 at the time, so I didn't have to worry about being put into the system, but... Dad had enough life insurance to pay the hospital and funeral bills. I sold the garage and that money tided me over until I graduated from high school. Then I sold the house and moved to New York. I thought I would... Actually, I don't know what I thought. I wanted to get into NYADA so desperately I could taste it. And when they turned me down, I was so sure that if I just showed up and kept trying they would eventually accept me. They didn't."

"I'm sorry," Blaine said.

"Don't be," Kurt said easily. "It was a long time ago and they were right. I never would have succeeded on Broadway. Even in New York, my differences are too much to get any of the good roles, and my dancing wasn't strong enough to get me chorus parts.

"Anyway, I was in New York, sharing a loft apartment with some people I didn't know, and absolutely miserable," Kurt continued. "I was working at this dive bar on weekends and a coffee shop during the week. I was barely making ends meet and had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and no idea how to make it happen even if I did."

Kurt was silent for a moment as though reliving those days. "I was depressed and lost and lonely and I couldn't come up with a single person who would miss me if I was dead. I decided there was no reason to keep on living." 

Kurt paused and laughed there, though Blaine couldn't really see anything funny about suicidal thoughts. "If you get to know me, one thing you'll learn is that I'm a planner. So I began planning my death the same way I plan my meals or what outfit I'm going to wear. I considered various methods and decided that an overdose was the best option. I'm not really one for pain or messes and there's no way I could throw myself off a building. But too many pills washed down with too much alcohol? That I could do. And I already had the pills. I'd sprained my wrist when I fell on an icy sidewalk not long before and had almost the entire bottle of painkillers left.

"I also planned who would find me," Kurt said. "And where it would happen. I hated my roommates and figured that they should have to deal with the trauma. I just needed to wait for the right time. The day I was going to do it, I decided to take a walk. I ended up here, in the park. Actually, right here on this bridge."

Kurt smiled at the memory. "James was... different. He was tossing bread crumbs to the pigeons and ducks when he saw me. He came up and handed me the bag of bread crumbs. He told me that feeding the birds will make even the worst pain better. It's not true. I tried it after the funeral yesterday.

"Anyway," Kurt continued with a sigh. "James somehow got me to talk and somehow I ended up telling him my whole tragic tale, including my plans for killing myself. He took me home with him that day and sent someone to pack up my things and I've lived at the penthouse ever since."

"He sounds like a good man," Blaine said. He irrationally felt grateful to the man for making sure that Kurt was still alive.

"He was," Kurt said. "He made me really think about what I wanted from life and then he set about making sure I could get it. He pulled some strings and got me into Columbia, where I studied creative writing. He introduced me to my agent. He pushed through favors until my first novel was published."

"You're a writer?" Blaine asked with surprise. "Would I have read any of your books?"

"Possibly," Kurt shrugged. "There have only been two so far, but my agent and editor have been at me to finish the third. I write under the pen-name B.H. Chester. B.H. for Burt Hummel, my father, and Chester after the stray cat my mom brought home when I was a kid. He died not long before my mom did."

"I've read both of your novels," Blaine told him. "And I would love to read a third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and even a seventh. The way you write about life and people... well, I can relate."

"A lot of people can, it seems," Kurt said wryly. "Otherwise they wouldn't have done so well."

"They were each on the New York Times best sellers list for months," Blaine said.

Kurt shrugged. "Like I said, it's all thanks to James. He's the one who pushed me to find another outlet for my creativity when Broadway was cut off. And he's the one who made it all happen."

Blaine nodded thoughtfully. "It sounds like he was a good friend and mentor. So how did..."

"How did he go from that to my husband?" Kurt asked. "Well, as I said, James was different. He was asexual. He had never had a sexual relationship in his life and he was already in his fifties when I met him. He had no desire to have sex with me or anyone. But that wasn't common knowledge. So people made assumptions."

"I can see where they might," Blaine agreed. "A young man living with a wealthy older man..."

"Exactly," Kurt said. "And mostly we just ignored all of the talk. We were friends. James became my best friend. In some ways, he was my only friend. I met other people my age in college, but I never felt like I fit in with them. So I spent most of my time with James. And James, when he wasn't working, was not very social. He made it to the top of the business because he was very good at what he did, not because he kissed anyone's ass or was even friendly to anyone. Most people who worked with or for him respected him, but few actually liked him."

"But you did," Blaine said.

"I did," Kurt confirmed. "I loved him. He saved me. But more than that, we actually did care for each other. James talked to me in ways that he never talked to anyone else. Right from the start. He said it was because we were meant to be friends. He believed in fate. That's why we got married."

"Because he believed you were fated to be friends?" Blaine asked with confusion.

"Yes and no," Kurt said with a sigh. "We were both perfectly happy with our living arrangement for years. James had companionship. I had the protection of his name and his wallet. But it was never meant to be a permanent thing. I was just supposed to get through school, get a leg up on my career, and then find my own way. We talked about it. Remember, I'm a planner. But then James got sick. The doctors told us that with care and treatment, he would have between two and five years to live. 

"James asked me to marry him after the shock had worn off," Kurt said quietly. "He said it was not only fate, but good financial planning." Kurt huffed a short laugh. "James said he wanted to make sure that there were no problems with me getting everything when he died. As his husband, we could put everything into both our names and there would be no issue with taxes or transferring property. It wasn't the proposal I had always secretly dreamed of, but... it made sense. And it made James happy."

"I guess I can understand why you would agree," Blaine said. "The money aside, you wanted your best friend's last days to be as happy as you could make them."

Kurt nodded. "So, here I am, 27 years old and a wealthy widower. I have everything I could want financially and career-wise, but I'm really back to where I was eight years ago when I met James: Alone."

Blaine reached out and grasped Kurt's hand. "But you aren't alone. You've found me."

Kurt looked down at where their hands were clasped together and then back up at Blaine. "Okay."

GLEE

Blaine insisted on walking Kurt back to his building, even though it was a block out of his way to the subway station. On the walk back, they exchanged phone numbers and email addresses and made plans to meet up for lunch that week. When they reached the front door of Kurt's building, with the doorman pretending not to listen, Blaine reminded kurt that he could call him any time to talk.

Blaine was surprised when he actually got a text from Kurt the very next day. 

The penthouse is too quiet. Get me out of here?

Blaine texted back right away and headed out after letting his roommate know that he was going.


	3. Pittsburgh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaine is a travel writer who settles in Pittsburgh

The house, if you could call it that, was on a grotty side street not far from one of the main roads in Pittsburgh. Though the neighborhood was in the midst of transition—one of those urban reclamation projects that jacked up rents and turned affordable apartments into expensive condos—that particular street had yet to see much revitalization. In fact this specific building looked like a rundown remnant of the city's worst years after the steel industry died.

The building was once the home of the local fire brigade about seventy years ago. In its second incarnation, it became a garage for auto repairs. Then it sat empty for about five years before being turned into a storefront and the old barn style doors were replaced with large windows to display the merchandise. A series of shops inhabited the space over the next decade but when the economy tanked, the place was left empty again and those windows boarded up.

If one looked at the dilapidated brick building, one could see clues to its past occupants. The old watch tower where the firefighters would keep an eye out for smoke or flames in the days before the telephone became a household necessity was still there. The difference in the bricks from where the old doors were made smaller to accommodate the picture windows were old now, but still a shade off from the original bricks. The interior still had some of the original wide plank floors in some areas and newer flooring in other parts. There were even stains on a couple of the walls from years of exhaust fumes.

These days, the building was a residence. It had been purchased for a fraction of the true value, especially if one considered all of the history those old walls contained. But it was in bad shape and had needed serious renovations to make it at all livable.

The owner of this house bought it after seeing it once and moved in before doing any of the recommended repairs. For the first year he lived there, there was no hot water or shower facilities. There was no kitchen. The only nod to modern convenience was the heat—an old furnace that had seen too many winters—and a functioning toilet. His days were filled with the noise of the construction crew that he had hired to do the renovation.

That hadn't stopped Blaine Anderson from making the place his home.

Blaine had been at a crossroads in his life and simply wanted to start over. Buying a building that reflected how he saw himself—a bit beaten down but with good structural integrity—seemed like the perfect answer. For a year, he worked around the construction crew and cleaned up after them as they demolished, rebuilt, and renovated that old building. Now, despite its still somewhat questionable facade, the place gleamed inside.

The old showroom/garage was now his living room. The storeroom/office had become the kitchen. The newly widened doorway and pass-through window complete with breakfast bar almost gave the feeling of a single room. Upstairs, where the firemen had once had their dorms, Blaine had the crew open it up into a loft space that overlooked the living room and got lots of sunlight from the two levels of semi-opaque molded-glass windows. Back behind the loft bedroom, there was a big bathroom and walk in closet.

But Blaine’s favorite part of the house was the old watchtower. Up there was where he put his studio and office. There was a 360 degree view, lots of light, and views of downtown and the three rivers down the hill. All the hardwood had been stripped and refinished, and Blaine had put in completely modern amenities, including a kitchen that his mother would have loved, if she'd still been alive.

Every morning, Blaine went for a run, about five miles, and ended up at the little coffee shop that was just up the corner from his house. Every morning, the waitress flirted with him and he smiled politely in return before taking his coffee to go, along with whatever pastry caught his eye. If it was nice out, he often stopped at the little park just beyond his place to eat his breakfast. If it was raining, he took his breakfast home and ate at the breakfast bar between the living room and kitchen.

After a quick shower, he would dress casually and get to work. Now that the house was finished, at least inside, he could concentrate all of his efforts into work that brought in income without the noisy interruptions from the renovations. For Blaine, that meant hours locked away in his tower office with his computer, writing. He had gotten started writing freelance articles for various travel magazines while he worked as a guide for a budget tour company. He spent his days showing American tourists the sights of Europe and his nights in hotel rooms writing.

After a few years of living on the road like that, he had saved up enough money to give up his day job and wrote full time for one of the magazines. He was still traveling all over Europe, but now his nights in the hotels were spent writing novels. He spoke five languages fluently—English, French, German, Italian, and Spanish—and had published a couple of novels in French and Spanish before selling his first manuscript to an American publisher. His second book published in America had finally hit the best seller list, and it seemed that his publisher was eager for more.

When Blaine wasn't working on his latest novel, he was busy translating his previous novels into other languages. It kept him busy—busy enough that he didn't mind not really knowing anyone in his new home city. He knew that if he ever came out and used his real name for publication that he would have more people knocking on his door than he could imagine, but that wasn't what he wanted. What he wanted was a quiet life with a few close friends who liked him for himself.

And so, Blaine hid away from the public eye, despite his publisher's desire for him to go public, and spent most of his time alone.

Until one day, a stranger knocked at his front door.

KBKBKBKBKB

Kurt knocked at the nondescript door and wondered, not for the first time, if he was making a big mistake. He looked back toward the door of his own apartment building two doors down, and wondered if he should just give up and go home. He had a deadline to meet, and it wasn't going to be finished with him wasting his time snooping around his hot neighbor. Then again, he'd been watching this particular neighbor from afar for months and he was tired of feeling like a stalker.

Just then, the door swung open and there was no more chance to change his mind.

"Can I help you?"

Kurt blinked at the familiar face and noted just how much better looking he was in person. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I wanted… I’m new to the area and I’ve seen you around the neighborhood for a while now and I thought that maybe… I’m sorry; I should just go and stop making a complete idiot of myself.”

Before he could do more than turn on the step, he was stopped by a hand on his arm. “I’ve seen you around too. Um… would you like to come inside? I could make… I think I have some tea left.”

Kurt turned back and gave the man a smile. “Tea sounds lovely.”

He followed the other man inside and was completely taken aback at just how stylish the place was. He knew from seeing the man around that he wasn’t exactly the worst dressed man. In fact, even his jogging clothes always matched and were from well know athletic designers. But from the exterior of the building, he never would have guessed that the interior would be so… magnificent.

The living room would have been at home on the pages of a design magazine. It was contemporary and sleekly modern, but at once cozy. The minimalist layout gave the room a feeling of spaciousness that was a rare commodity in any city.

And the kitchen! When Kurt followed the other man through the eight foot wide arched doorway, he felt like he was stepping into the kitchen of a professional chef. The professional grade appliances were accented with sleek black cabinets and dark aubergine quartz-composite countertops that had been polished to a gleaming finish. The one-inch glass tile backsplash was in a lighter shade of aubergine and really popped against the black cabinets.

“Have a seat,” the man said and gestured to the sleekly lacquered round table with the white leather chairs. “I’m Blaine Anderson, by the way.”

Kurt flushed with embarrassment. “I’m Kurt Hummel. I love your place. I never would have guessed that it was anything quite this nice from the exterior.”

“I know I need to get the brick cleaned up,” Blaine sighed. “But it took almost a year to get the interior finished and I just wanted some peace and quiet for a while.”

While they were talking, Blaine had been busy. He filled the electric kettle and let it heat. In the meantime, he pulled out a teapot from one of the cupboards. Once the water was hot, he filled the pot and then refilled the kettle to heat again. Kurt watched in fascination as Blaine then emptied the water from the teapot and began filling it with loose tea from a tin container. He had heard of people who took tea very serious, but had never met anyone who went to this much trouble just for a pot of tea. When Blaine carried over a tea tray, complete with plates of shortbread, the tea service and two matching teacups, Kurt had to smile. This boy was definitely gay.

“I hope you like the blend,” Blaine said as he poured the tea into the ups through a strainer. “It’s my favorite: black tea with orange rinds and a hint of cinnamon.”

Kurt took the offered cup and sipped it carefully. “Oh, this is really lovely. Thank you.”

Blaine gave him a wide grin. “You are completely welcome. So, you said that you’re new to the area? I am too, actually. I’ve only been living here for about 15 months. Where are you moving from and why did you pick Pittsburgh?”

“I didn’t so much pick Pittsburgh as it picked me,” Kurt said ruefully. “When I went to New York for college, I never intended to leave. But… I was offered a promotion that would have taken me another ten years to get if I stayed in New York.”

“Oh?” Blaine asked. “What do you do?”

Kurt smiled. “I’m a buyer for Macy’s. More specifically, I’m the head buyer for the region. I select or approve all of the clothes that are sold in all of the stores in upstate New York, southern New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Kentucky, West Virginia and Indiana. If I had stayed in New York, I would have been the assistant head buyer for another ten years until my old boss retired. That was not something I wanted to do. So here I am. What about you?”

“How did I end up in Pittsburgh?” Blaine asked. Kurt nodded from behind his teacup. “Well, honestly, I was ready to settle down and it seemed like a decent enough city. Far enough from Ohio to avoid my father, but close enough to go back for an Ohio State football game every once in a while. I thought about New York, but…” Blaine shrugged. “It just seemed a little too fast, a little too loud. At least for now; I need a slower pace for a while.”

“New York can be tiring,” Kurt agreed. “There’s always something happening and I always felt like I was missing out on something if I didn't partake of everything.”

“Exactly,” Blaine said with another smile. “After traveling for so long, I really just wanted something slower.”

“Travel?” Kurt asked.

Blaine nodded. “I worked as a tour guide for a while and then wrote travel articles and guides. These days, I just write novels.”

“Anything I would have read?” Kurt wondered.

Blaine hesitated for a brief moment. On the one hand, he never told anyone about his pen name and telling a complete stranger wasn’t exactly the smartest thing to do. On the other hand, he really liked Kurt and didn’t want to like to him. And for some strange reason, he trusted him.

“You ever hear of Cooper Thomas?” Blaine asked shyly.

Kurt’s eyes widened. “The reclusive bestselling author of those mysteries about the tour guide in Europe?”

“That’s the one,” Blaine said sheepishly.

Kurt eyed him speculatively, “I always thought that the main character and the bus driver had something going.”

“Perhaps,” Blaine shrugged. “But keeping it to hints only keeps from alienating the heterosexual readers. Or so my publisher tells me. Most straight men don’t recognize the flirtatious nature of their friendship.”

“I love those books,” Kurt said. “I even bought the two books you only published in French.”

“You speak French?” Blaine asked with surprise. In his experience, not many Americans were fluent in any language other than English, no matter how many years they took a foreign language in school.

Kurt nodded. “I always planned to do something with fashion, so I taught myself. I also speak Italian and Spanish. All three languages have been useful in my work. I take a few trips to Europe every year looking for trends and unknown designers.”

Blaine couldn’t help but grin. Here was a man who was smart and funny and well-traveled. And he met him on his doorstep in Pittsburgh.

“Would you like to see where all the magic happens?” Blaine asked.

Kurt agreed readily. He also really wanted to see the rest of that amazing home. And he wasn’t disappointed. The master bedroom, overlooking the living room, was breathtaking. And the bathroom was nicer than anything Kurt had ever seen before. But it was the walk in closet that had him drooling.

“There’s a guest suite back here,” Blaine said as they passed another doorway on their way to the stairs. “I took up too much space on the master suite to get more than one extra bedroom, but I don’t exactly have a lot of need for more than one guest room.”

Up the stairs, Kurt gasped when he saw the views from the tower. He could see downtown and the rivers, not to mention the new stadiums. “This must be an amazing view at night.”

“It’s great when they do fireworks down at Point Park,” Blaine agreed. “I’m just lucky that none of the buildings in the area are higher than two stories.”

Kurt noted that the room had numerous low bookshelves built in below the windows as well as a couple of really nice credenzas for file storage. The desk, set in the center of the room, held a very nice Macintosh computer, and not much else. Blaine certainly was a well-ordered person.

Kurt took a seat on the single leather sofa in the room and looked out at the view again. “You said you're from Ohio originally?”

“I am,” Blaine said and took the seat beside Kurt. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I’m from Ohio, too,” Kurt said. “My dad and stepmother still live there.”

“Where?” Blaine asked.

“Lima,” Kurt said. “I got out right after high school and don’t get back as often as my parents would like. But I don’t exactly have great memories of that town. High school was torture, being the only openly gay kid in school. Things have gotten better in the last decade, but…”

“I know what you mean,” Blaine said quietly. “My freshman year of high school was pretty awful too. After getting beaten up pretty badly outside a school dance, my parents transferred me to a private school. Dalton was great.”

“Dalton?” Kurt asked. “In Westerville? We competed against them in show choir my junior year.”

Blaine grinned. “Really? I was in the Warblers. In fact, I was their lead soloist.”

“I would have remembered you,” Kurt said. “The year we competed against your team, the leads were taken by a few different boys.”

“Was that 2010?” Blaine asked.

“Yes,” Kurt said.

“That would have been the year I got sick with bronchitis about a week before sectionals,” Blaine said. “It was my sophomore year. We won our sectionals the next year and lost at regionals, but I think they had changed the regions that year, because we didn’t compete against your school. My senior year, we went to nationals and came in second place.”

“We went to nationals in my junior and senior year,” Kurt said. “We came in 12th the first year but won the next. Then half of our team graduated and I think they struggled to even get enough kids to compete the next year.”

Blaine smiled and shook his head. “It seems so weird how much we have in common.”

“I know,” Kurt agreed. He happened to glance at his watch just then. “Shit. Is that the time? I’ve got a meeting in an hour. I really have to get going.”

“Let me show you out,” Blaine said politely, though he really wanted to make Kurt stay. After more than a year of nothing but polite conversations with strangers and talking work with his publisher, he was really enjoying getting to know Kurt.

“Thank you again for the tea,” Kurt said as he followed Blaine back down two flights of stairs. “And for the conversation. I… I don’t usually knock on doors looking for friends, but I’m glad I did this time.”

“I’m glad you did too,” Blaine admitted.

“How about I make dinner for you at my place tomorrow evening?” Kurt asked. “As a thank you. If you’re free, that is.”

“I’m definitely free,” Blaine said with a grin. “Just tell me where and when.”

“Two doors down,” Kurt said. “The apartment on the second floor. And seven o’clock. Are you allergic to anything? Or are you vegan?”

“Neither,” Blaine said. “And I’m pretty adventurous food-wise, so anything you serve, I’m sure I’ll enjoy.”

They both paused at the door, both smiling and reluctant to part ways. Eventually, however, Kurt had to go. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“I look forward to it,” Blaine said and then watched Kurt hurry down the front steps and down the walk to his own front door.

KBKBKBKBKB

 

 


	4. Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Burt dies, Kurt looks to be emancipated, rather than be put into the system, so he hires lawyer Blaine.

Part One

It had been three weeks since Kurt’s father had passed away. Three weeks of misery and fear and loneliness. Three weeks of tears that never seemed to stop and left Kurt feeling weak and wrung out. Three weeks of living in a haze as school and glee and the garage and going home to an empty house blurred into nothing. Kurt felt like he was living in a nightmare.

One thing that Kurt understood was that at 17 years old, he was not old enough, by law, to live on his own. And yet, he was also scared to death of ending up in a foster home. Carole, his dad’s girlfriend, was a lovely woman, but she was not his mother. He barely knew her. And even though she had offered to let him live with her, he couldn’t bring himself to accept. He would rather be alone and miserable than live with a virtual stranger’s pity.

That was the reason he was sitting outside the offices of Anderson & Anderson, the only law firm in Lima that Kurt could find that would agree to meet with him. He had dug out his second best suit: not the black one that he had so recently worn to his father’s funeral, but the sharkskin charcoal-gray one with the black leather trim on the collar and lapel. He chose a black shirt and black skinny tie to go with the suit. It was a bit more somber than Kurt usually wore, but he was still in mourning. He wore a lot of black and gray these days.

Kurt straightened his tie in the visor mirror and checked his hair once more before taking a deep breath and stepping from the Navigator. The offices of Anderson & Anderson were in one of the few office buildings downtown. It wasn’t much to look at, but it was nicer than most of the architecture in Lima. Once inside, Kurt looked over the directory and then took the elevator to the seventh floor.

Stepping off the elevator, Kurt discovered that the offices of Anderson & Anderson were the only offices on that floor. He stepped through the glass doorway, etched with their logo, and was immediately greeted by the receptionist. 

“Yes, my name is Kurt Hummel,” Kurt said nervously. “I have an appointment with Blaine Anderson.”

The woman smiled at him and nodded. “He’s expecting you. Unfortunately, he’s been detained in another meeting and is running a few minutes behind schedule. Let me show you to his office and I’ll get you something to drink while you wait.”

“Thanks,” Kurt murmured as he followed the cheerful young woman through the offices. 

Kurt looked around as they walked and noted that while the building itself may have been outdated, the Andersons had taken great care to make their workplace both professional and innovative. Modern furniture, contemporary artwork, and minimalist designs were used to make the place look and feel elegant while still keeping the spaces suitably functional. When they arrived at Blaine Anderson’s office, Kurt wasn’t surprised that it was just as practical and minimalist.

The receptionist asked Kurt’s coffee preference and he was surprised when she said that they had a fully equipped espresso machine. But she assured him that his usual non-fat mocha latte would be no problem to make. Then he was left alone in the office to wait. 

The office was on a corner of the building and had two full walls of floor to ceiling windows that overlooked what there was of downtown Lima. There were no curtains or blinds to hinder the view, and Kurt wondered idly how the afternoon sun would affect the temperature in the room and the lighting. There was a large glass-top desk in the center of the room. It was clutter-free, much to Kurt’s surprise. In his experience, most people were pretty messy with their work spaces. His father’s desk at the garage was always a shambles.

That thought brought back Kurt’s reasons for being there and he had to shake off the melancholy, or else he would end up in tears again. Instead, he turned his attention back to the room. Along one wall there was a series of shelves filled with law books. That wasn’t surprising at all. What was surprising was that along the other wall there was a credenza, and above the credenza there was a familiar painting.

“I got that at a local art show,” a voice said, surprising Kurt from his reverie. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. Jenna told me you were waiting. And she gave me your latte.”

He handed over the large ceramic mug and Kurt accepted it, taking the opportunity to look over the young man who had interrupted. He was a little shorter than Kurt, but he was still one of the most beautiful men Kurt had ever met in person. His wide hazel eyes were framed by thick dark lashes which made his eyes appear soulful. His hair, slicked back with a little too much hair gel, was dark and wavy and Kurt wondered what it would be like without the gel. Would it have soft curls that Kurt could run his fingers through? He was wearing tight red chinos and a white shirt with a red, white and black striped bowtie and gray and red argyle cardigan with black trim.

Beyond his appearance, there was something about the man that drew Kurt in like a moth to a flame. There was a power in his lithe frame, a gentle strength behind his eyes, which called to Kurt’s baser side. Kurt forced himself to move away from the man before his body responded inappropriately.

“So, you like art?” the man asked.

“I do,” Kurt said. “In fact, that’s what I want to do with my life. I want to be an artist.”

“That’s great,” the guy said with a wide infectious smile.

“That’s, um, actually my painting,” Kurt said shyly. “My art teacher knew the people putting on the show last year and… That’s the first painting I ever sold. Since then one of the local galleries has displayed a few of my pieces and I’ve sold a couple others.”

“Really?” the guy said with shock. “That’s incredible. You’re very talented. But you didn’t come here to talk about art, did you. Why don’t you have a seat and we can talk?”

It hadn’t occurred to Kurt that the man in front of him could actually be the Blaine Anderson that he was waiting to meet. Not only was he dressed entirely too fashionably flashy for a lawyer in Kurt’s opinion, but he was so young. Kurt had assumed he was an intern or something.

“Okay, thanks, Mr. Anderson,” Kurt said and took one of the two seats in front of the desk. Rather than sitting behind the desk, Blaine took the other seat and turned it to face Kurt. 

“Please, call me Blaine. So, my assistant told me that you recently lost your father,” Blaine said. “My sympathies.”

“Thank you, Blaine,” Kurt said with a sigh. “That’s really why I’m here. I want to know what I can do to keep from being put into the foster care system. I’m 17 therefore still considered a minor. Money isn’t really a concern. Well, it is a little bit of a concern. I’ll have to sell the house if I can only work part time while I’m finishing high school. But my mother’s family left me a little money to pay for college and such. I can take care of myself financially. I’ve been running our household pretty much since my mother died ten years ago. I’ve even been helping manage my father’s garage for years. 

“But since I’m only 17, I can’t legally sign the paychecks for the garage crew,” Kurt continued. “I can’t sell the house or lease an apartment without an adult signature. Plus, I’ve been getting visits from the state. I’ve been putting them off by telling them I’ve been staying with friends’ families, but I’m pretty sure that they’re going to try and make me either go to a foster home or some group home. I really don’t want to do that.”

“Understandably,” Blaine said. “Well, I can tell you that from what you’ve told me, it sounds like you could present a strong case for emancipation.”

“What does that mean?” Kurt asked.

“It basically means that you would be declared by the courts to be an adult, even though you haven’t turned 18 yet,” Blaine said. “But I would need to be able to provide documented proof that you're capable of caring for your own interests. That means I’ll need your financial records and school records. I’ll need to speak with your teachers and other adults in your life who are willing to attest that you are fit to live on your own. Are you okay with that?”

Kurt nodded. “I can give you a list of people who would be good to talk to, and would probably be willing to state that I can take care of myself: my art teacher, Sue Sylvester, the guidance counselor, Miss Pillsbury, Jack Johnson, the guy who has been managing the shop while I’ve been in school, Carole Hudson, my father’s girlfriend. And my grades are pretty good. My finances… well, I can give you a copy of the annual statement from my trust. My father was the executor, but mostly he said we should save that money for college and after, so he just let the brokerage manage it. We always just lived on the income from the garage. I can give you copies of my pay checks and profits from the garage and I have files with all of the household bills. The only thing that isn’t completely up to date is the hospital bills, but that’s because I’m waiting for the life insurance to come through.”

Blaine nodded. “Okay, Kurt. Why don’t you gather all of that together for me and I’ll drop by to go over it tomorrow after school?”

“I have art club and then I’m closing the shop,” Kurt said. “Jack opens and I close. I don’t usually get home until 8:30. But you can stop in then.”

“Okay,” Blaine agreed. “I’ll be there before 9. I’ll even bring pizza so we can eat while we go over everything.”

Kurt smiled. “Just make my half veggie.”

BKBKBKBKBK

Kurt felt a little better as he went back to school that afternoon and worked in the garage that evening. He took some time before closing up the shop to copy all of the paperwork for the garage. When he got home, he worked on his homework for an hour before gathering up the paperwork he would need to copy for Blaine. He decided to take it to work tomorrow, where there was a copier.

Despite the fact that Kurt had grown up in that house, since his father’s death it hadn’t felt as warm or welcoming. The only place he felt truly comfortable was in his basement bedroom, but even there, he felt the emptiness of the house profoundly. There were no reassuring footsteps above him. There was no sound from the television playing marathons of Dirty Jobs, Biggest Catch and Ice Road Truckers. Most nights, Kurt came through the front door and only stayed upstairs long enough to get something to eat and then hid away in the basement.

The next morning, Kurt prepared for another day of hell. School had never been easy for him. The classes and assignments were easy enough, but he had never fit in with the other kids. Since he started high school, those differences had just become even more glaring. And if there was one thing that the jocks at McKinley high couldn’t stand it was anyone who was different. Especially if that difference was a person’s sexuality.

Kurt had never said so to Carole, or his father before he died, but one of the reasons Kurt was so dead set against living with Carole was the fact that her son Finn was one of the jocks who tormented him daily. He wasn’t the worst, but he was definitely part of the gang of bullies that went out of their way to harass him. 

The worst of the jocks was actually David Karofsky. For some reason, he sought Kurt out to torment him specifically. The others mostly just tormented whomever was closest. But Karofsky had it out specifically for Kurt. He took every opportunity to shove Kurt into lockers, toss him into dumpsters, and call him a fag every chance he got. He was also the one who gave Kurt the creeps. On many occasions, Kurt had caught the jock staring at him and if he noticed Kurt had caught him, he would get angry and lash out, which usually meant that Kurt got an extra hard shove into a locker.

Unfortunately, that day at lunch, Karofsky was caught staring. But not by Kurt this time. This time, he was caught by Puck and Azimio, who proceeded to give him a hard time about staring at the fairy boy. This meant that Karofsky was out to prove his hatred of Kurt Hummel as he stalked the halls that afternoon.

Kurt knew what was coming, but he was helpless to stop it. This time, it was more than just a shove into a locker. This time, Karofsky grabbed Kurt by the neck and slammed him face first into the locker.

“You can’t make me gay you little faggot,” Karofsky hissed low enough for the other jocks around them to not hear. “I’ll kill you first.”

When Karofsky let go, Kurt fell to the ground in a heap. And just to add insult to injury, Karofsky and the other jocks each took a turn kicking him before they left, high-fiving each other as they stalked through the halls.

Kurt remained on the ground, unable to move for a long time as he slowly got his breath back. He hurt all over. Thankfully, one of the kids from Kurt’s art class came by and helped him to the nurse’s office. Though Tina was a nice girl, she was shy and too scared of being bullied herself to actually become friends with the school’s resident gay kid. But Kurt appreciated the help and said so.

The nurse wanted to send Kurt to the hospital, but he refused. Instead, he sat with an icepack on his swollen cheek and tried not to wince while the nurse wrapped ace bandages around his ribs. She gave him some ibuprofen for the pain and swelling and sent him home. Kurt sighed once he reached his Navigator. He so badly wanted to just go home and never come out again, but he had to be at the garage by four. He had a couple hours, but Kurt knew that if he went home, he wouldn’t want to leave, so he headed for the garage.

Jack eyed Kurt’s injuries but didn’t say anything. He just told Kurt to take a nap on the office sofa and he’d wake Kurt up when he was leaving for the day.

Kurt woke up a few hours later and realized that Jack had never come to wake him up. It was after 7 already. Every move hurt as Kurt sat up and he knew that there was no way he was going to be able to actually work on cars. Jack must have known it too, because when Kurt exited the office, Jack told him that he’d worked it out with his wife to stay until close.

“Go home and rest,” Jack said. “And if you still feel like shit tomorrow, just call and tell me. If I can’t close, then I’ll get Mike to do it. The place will still be standing if you don’t come in for a couple days.”

Kurt wanted to protest, but he really couldn’t. Instead he sighed and said, “Okay. I guess I’ll let you guys deal with tomorrow. And I’ll let you know about Saturday.”

“Take care of yourself, Kurt,” Jack said. “Your dad would have my head if I let you run yourself into the ground.”

Kurt laughed humorlessly. “It’s not the hours that are killing me.”

Jack frowned and nodded sadly. “I get it. Just… hang in there, okay.”

Kurt stopped back in the office only long enough to copy the paperwork he had dug up the night before. Then he headed for home. Once he reached his house, he stripped off his clothes and took a long shower to try and relieve some of the aches and pains. Afterward, he put on comfortable yoga pants and wrapped his ribs again before carefully pulling on a loose flannel shirt that had once been his father’s. It was a lot more comfortable than trying to pull a t-shirt over his head. For once, comfort was more important than fashion.

Kurt looked into the mirror and sighed. There wasn’t much he could do about the swollen cheek or black eye. He knew from past experience that covering it with makeup tended to just make people more curious. Besides, it hurt to touch it still, and he wasn’t willingly going to put himself through any more pain. 

Kurt had just finished carefully combing his hair, lifting his arms as little as possible, when the doorbell rang. It took Kurt a few minutes to get up the stairs and to the front door, but when he did, there was Blaine Anderson, looking much more like a lawyer in a light gray suit than he had the day before.

“Hey, What happened to you?” Blaine asked with concern as soon as he saw Kurt’s face.

Kurt sighed. “Long story. Come inside.”

Blaine had a pizza box in one hand and a duffle bag in the other. “I was in court all day and haven’t had time to change. Do you mind if I use your bathroom?”

“Not at all,” Kurt said. “Through the first door on your right. I’ll take the pizza and set the table.”

Setting the table was easier said than done. It was nearly impossible for Kurt to lift his arms high enough to reach the dishes in the cupboard. And when he finally did reach them, he nearly dropped them because the weight sent shooting pain through his ribs.

“Let me get that,” Blaine said as he entered the kitchen. Kurt nodded and walked carefully to the table where he sat down. “So, what happened?” Blaine asked again as he set the plates on the table and then went in search of utensils. 

“Idiot homophobic jocks happened,” Kurt said. “The worst of whom I think is a closet case. Today was a little worse than usual because his friends caught him creeping on me.”

“Did you report it?” Blaine asked as he grabbed two sodas from the fridge.

Kurt sighed. “To the nurse. But nothing ever comes of reporting things. No one ever does anything. They nod sympathetically and then tell me that maybe it would be better if I was a little less gay and didn’t upset the Neanderthals so much.”

“Have you documented the instances of harassment?” Blaine asked. “Who did it, where and when, who witnessed it, who it was reported to, what the outcome was?”

Kurt raised his brows. “Why?”

“Because there are things that I can do,” Blaine said passionately. “Things that will force the school board to make changes in policy and make the school safe for all kids, gay or straight. And I hate to think that you are unsafe every day you walk through those halls.”

Kurt stared down at his plate for a minute before looking up at Blaine. “My dad tried. He really did. He would go into school and raise hell. He went to school board meetings and still nothing changed. We kept records of everything after the first few months of freshman year. There are pictures of every injury and every ruined piece of property or clothing. There are pages and pages of documents. There are records of the school board minutes every time my father went and raised the issue about bullying and discrimination. There are lists of teachers who witnessed the incidents and did nothing. But nothing was ever done because most of the teachers, the administration, and the board are all homophobic too.”

“Luckily, the law isn’t homophobic,” Blaine said. “At least when it comes to things like this. We might not be able to get married in Ohio, but we are protected from discrimination and violence. And, if you’ll let me, I want to remind this school board of their responsibility to protect all students.”

Kurt nodded. “Yeah. I… Thank you.”

“Well, first we have to get you emancipated, so that you can sue the crap out of this school board,” Blaine said. “So you have all of the information for me?”

Kurt pointed to where he had stacked the paperwork at the other end of the table. While they ate, Blaine began reading through everything that Kurt had copied for him. Everything backed up what Kurt had already told him. Blaine would just need to get written statements from the list of people Kurt had given him. 

When he reached the financial information regarding Kurt’s inheritance, Blaine frowned. “Have you read through the report from the brokerage handling your inheritance?”

Kurt shook his head and swallowed the bite of pizza he had been chewing. “No. Like I said, my dad handled all of that.”

“There’s a lot more here than I expected,” Blaine told him. 

It was Kurt’s turn to frown and Blaine handed him the copy of the report. “That’s… that can’t be right.”

Blaine flipped through the previous reports, going back years. “No, it’s right. Apparently, your mother’s family left her a rather substantial inheritance. Rather than spending that money, she and your father invested it for your future. When she died, your father continued to reinvest any dividends and even added to the account on a monthly basis. There’s only ever been one withdrawal. That was about a year ago.”

“I wanted a car,” Kurt explained. “Dad said I could have one, but he was taking the money from my inheritance. He bought me the Navigator for my 16th birthday.”

“Well, that explains the withdrawal,” Blaine said. “But Kurt, do you realize that there’s enough money here for you to pay for private school, college, graduate school, buy a house and still have more than enough to support yourself for the rest of your life while you pursue your art career? Assuming you live moderately.”

Kurt gulped. “It’s a lot of money. I didn’t even know it was anywhere near that much.”

“My point is: you won’t have to sell your house if you don’t want to,” Blaine told him gently.

Kurt looked around the small, outdated kitchen that had been his home his entire life and smiled sadly. “I can’t stay here. Not now. It hurts too much.”

Blaine nodded. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to try and live in his parents’ home if they died. And he didn’t particularly get along with his parents. He certainly hadn’t been as close as Kurt was to his father.

“At the very least, you might consider private school,” Blaine said. “I’m going to do my best to make the Lima City School Board make changes to protect students, but that could take a long time. Possibly even years. In the meantime, you’ll still be unsafe.”

Kurt thought about the words that Karofsky had hissed at him that very afternoon and shuddered. “He threatened to kill me.”

“What? Who?” Blaine asked with concern.

“The closet case,” Kurt said. “He said I can’t make him gay and that he’d kill me first. But I’m not doing anything to him. And I can’t… I can’t out him. I can’t tell anyone why I’m scared to death. As much as I hate him, I can’t do that.”

Blaine sat back in his seat, his pizza forgotten for a moment. “Okay. We’ll find another way to deal with him without outing him. But in that case, I really think you need to consider other schooling options. It’s just not safe here for you.”

Kurt nodded. “I know. Do you know anywhere…”

“Dalton,” Blaine said before Kurt could even finish his question. “When I was being harassed at my old school, that’s where my parents sent me. It has the highest academics in the state, which shouldn’t be a problem for you if your transcript is any indication. And it has one of the best art programs around. But the best part about Dalton is the fact that they have a zero-tolerance policy against bullying and harassment of any kind, and it’s strictly enforced.”

“And they’ll accept me in the middle of the term?” Kurt asked.

“I’m an alumnus,” Blaine said. “And I’ve kept in contact with the headmaster over the years. They would probably accept you without my influence, but I’ll definitely put in a good word. In fact, if you’d like, I can set up an appointment and go with you to talk to them.”

“I’d like that,” Kurt said. “Maybe Monday, after my face has had time to heal a little?”

“As long as you promise me that you won’t be going back to school tomorrow,” Blaine said seriously. “I really don’t think you should.”

“I was planning on staying home tomorrow,” Kurt admitted. “I just hurt too much to think about sitting in those uncomfortable chairs all day.”

Blaine noted that Kurt was beginning to wilt. The pain and emotional exhaustion was catching up with him.

“Okay, I think it’s past time for you to go to bed,” Blaine said. “You head to your bedroom and I’ll get the ibuprofen and some water if you tell me where they are.”

Kurt quickly gave Blaine the location of the medicine and then slowly made his way down the stairs to his bedroom. A few minutes later, Blaine followed with a bottle of water and the bottle of ibuprofen. Kurt accepted the pills that Blaine handed to him and swallowed them down with about a quarter of the water. 

“Okay, you go to bed. I’m just going to clean up the kitchen and look a little closer at some of the documents you gave me and then clean up the kitchen,” Blaine said. “So don’t freak out if you hear me roaming around up there.”

Kurt smiled at the man who was quickly becoming a friend. “Thank you.”

“Just get some rest,” Blaine said.

BKBKBKBKBK

Blaine fell asleep on the sofa, and was glad he had when there was a knock at the door the next morning. It was a woman from social services. It didn’t take much to intimidate her with legalese, but Blaine knew that time was running out for Kurt. He needed to get the emancipation petition filed and in front of a judge as quickly as possible.

“Kurt?” Blaine called softly from the foot of the stairs. He was carrying a tray of food for the young man. It was nothing fancy, just oatmeal and fresh fruit, juice and tea. 

“Blaine?” Kurt answered sleepily. He sat up in bed and winced when his ribs protested the move. “Are you still here?”

“I fell asleep on the sofa,” Blaine explained as he set the tray on the bed beside Kurt. And then he went on to tell Kurt about the visit from social services. Kurt looked worried, but Blaine said, “I’m going to call in a few favors to expedite the petition, so try not to worry. But I’ve got to get going. Are you going to be okay?”

“I’m fine,” Kurt said. “At least, I’m fine enough to be okay on my own.”

“Don’t forget to take the ibuprofen,” Blaine said. “I’ll come by this evening to see how you’re doing and let you know what progress I’ve made.”

Kurt nodded. “There’s an extra key hanging on the hook by the front door. It’s on a Goofy keychain. Take that and let yourself in in case I’m sleeping.”

Blaine nodded and left the young man to eat his breakfast. Before leaving the house, he grabbed the extra key and locked the front door behind him.

Blaine’s first stop of the morning was to the office, where he kept a couple extra shirts. He didn’t have time to head home and change, but a fresh shirt and tie would at least make him presentable in the same suit he wore the day before. Of course, that didn’t prevent Cooper Anderson, Blaine’s brother and partner in the law firm, from commenting. Blaine didn’t have time to deal with his teasing.

His second stop was to McKinley High School, where he requested an official copy of Kurt’s transcript. Then he found Sue Sylvester and Emma Pillsbury, who both agreed to write out a statement regarding Kurt’s ability to care for himself. Miss Pillsbury seemed quite sad about the entire situation, but agreed that Kurt could definitely take care of himself, even if he shouldn’t have to. Sue Sylvester was something completely unexpected. She was nothing like any art teacher Blaine had ever seen before. But then again, Blaine quickly learned that her primary concern was coaching the cheerleading squad. She made it very clear that they were six-time national champions. But as abrasive and self-absorbed as she was, she also seemed to genuinely care about Kurt, who she called Porcelain. 

Then Blaine headed back to the office to finish up the petition. He could gather statements from Carole Hudson and Jack Johnson before they met with the judge. For now, it was more important to have the petition on file, because the state couldn’t force Kurt into state custody as long as the judgment was pending.

Blaine worked through lunch to get the petition completed and then headed for the courthouse to file it. Most times, he would have entrusted that duty to either an intern or a paralegal, but Kurt had become too important in a very short period of time to leave anything to chance. Once the petition was filed, he headed to the chambers of Judge Michaela Droz. She listened as he explained the urgency of Kurt’s case and agreed to hear the petition on Tuesday, the next free slot in her docket.

Feeling satisfied with how the day was going, Blaine headed back to the office, where he put in a call to the headmaster of Dalton, who agreed to meet with Kurt and Blaine on Monday. He was very sympathetic to Kurt’s situation and Blaine knew that if all went well, Kurt would be able to start at Dalton on Wednesday.

“I’m getting out of here a little early today,” Blaine told his brother when he passed by his office a few minutes after Blaine hung up from his call to Dalton. “I want to stop in and give an update to a client.”

“That the kid who wants emancipated?” Cooper asked as he entered the office and flopped down into the chair across from Blaine. “Don’t get too caught up in his case, Blaine.”

“I can’t help it,” Blaine sighed. “He’s been through so much and now he’s lost his father too.”

“I get that, but you have to try and keep some perspective,” Cooper said. “I see the way your face lights up when you talk about him. But you have to remember he’s just a kid.”

“He’s 17,” Blaine said. “And about to be declared a legal adult.”

“He’s a kid,” Cooper reiterated.

“He’s only 6 years younger than me,” Blaine pointed out. “When I was his age, I was in college and expected to act as an adult.”

Cooper smirked. “You have got it bad, little brother. Fine, I won’t argue with you on this. Just be careful.”

“I will,” Blaine promised. “I may need your help with another matter that has come up.”

“Oh?” Cooper asked, looking intrigued. Blaine rarely asked for his help or advice. It was a byproduct of being a young genius. Blaine always felt like he had to know the answer to everything. Never mind that he was not much more than a kid himself when he began practicing law. He had been the youngest graduate from Harvard Law in half a century and had passed the bar on his first try. 

“Yeah, there’s a lot more going on with Kurt than just needing to be emancipated,” Blaine said. He went on to explain about the unchecked bullying at McKinley, the violence Kurt had faced and the death threat. “I know how to deal with the school, but how do I handle this kid? If he’s really gay and self-hating, then he could be a danger to himself and others. He’s already made death threats against Kurt.”

Cooper nodded. “Let me handle this jock. Karofsky, you said?”

Blaine nodded. “Yeah.”

“I’ll talk to him and his parents,” Cooper said. “Without bringing the internal homophobia up. If this kid is acting out, the parents may have noticed the change and be concerned. I might, as an impartial third party, be able to convince them to get the kid into counseling.”

“I appreciate that,” Blaine said with relief. “If he really is this messed up, there’s no telling what he could do to others or himself. And I know that Kurt would feel guilty if that happened.”

“I’ll do my best,” Cooper promised.

Blaine left the office and headed to his house to change clothes. On the way, he considered Cooper’s concerns and had to question his own motivation for helping Kurt. It was true that he was extremely attracted to the younger man, but he had to believe that he would have helped anyone in Kurt’s situation. Then again, he probably wouldn’t have felt the need to check up on anyone else in this situation. He would have made sure they were okay and then left them to heal. For Kurt, he had stayed the night and made breakfast and took the extra key to his house.

Then again, Kurt had offered the key. And he had seemed very grateful for anything Blaine had done. But was that just because Kurt was lonely and hurting? Or could it be more than that? 

Blaine decided that the best course of action was wait and see. There was no reason to rush anything. And he would help Kurt no matter what. So, for the time being, he would set aside his attraction and concentrate on helping Kurt.

BKBKBKBKBK

Kurt was up and about when Blaine got there. It was easy to tell that he was still hurting, but he was much better than he had been. “I was just about to make some vegetable soup,” Kurt told Blaine. “If you’re hungry, you’re welcome to join me. It’ll be about an hour.”

“Soup sounds good,” Blaine said as he took a seat at the table and watched Kurt work. “So I have news.”

Blaine explained all of the progress he had made that day to Kurt while the teen carefully chopped and prepared various ingredients to add to the pot of beef stock. Then Kurt went to work making fresh bread from scratch. 

“So we’re meeting with the headmaster of Dalton on Monday and going in front of the judge on Tuesday?” Kurt summarized as he washed his hands and then put the bread into the oven.

“That’s right,” Blaine said. “Are you okay with that?”

“It’s a lot to take in,” Kurt admitted as he sat down across the table from Blaine. “So much is changing so quickly. But I’m glad that things will be settled soon. Having the state off my back will be a huge relief. And not having to go back to McKinley will be too.”

“Good,” Blaine said.

“I’ve been thinking,” Kurt said. “I really want to get started on selling the house. But I’ve also been considering selling the business. If I really don’t need the money, then it just doesn’t make sense to hold onto it. And I think Jack would like to buy it. We’d have to work out the details, but he’s a good man and a friend. I think my dad would approve.”

“If that’s what you want, I can help you work out the legal side of the transaction,” Blaine offered. 

“Thanks,” Kurt said. He looked at Blaine for a long minute. “I know this is a completely personal question, but how old are you?”

Blaine grinned. “After all the personal stuff I’ve had to ask you lately, I think I can handle a little turnabout. I’m 23. And yes, I am awfully young to be a lawyer.”

Kurt chuckled. “I guess you get that a lot.”

“Yeah,” Blaine said with a nod. “But I don’t mind. I’ve always been a bit precocious.”

“I’d say that it’s more than precociousness,” Kurt scoffed. 

Blaine shrugged. “I graduated from high school a little early, plus I took a few college classes while still in high school so that I could graduate from college in a little over two years. But law school took the standard time. Some people call me a genius, but it’s... I just… wanted to get on with my life. I really hated school before I went to Dalton, so I did whatever I could to get out early. I wouldn’t recommend going to college at 16 to anyone. It really sucked. Which is why I, again, did whatever it took to graduate early. So I ended up with a law degree at 20 and passed the bar the first time. And I’ve been practicing law with my brother ever since.”

“Still, it’s pretty impressive,” Kurt said. “I get hating school and wanting to get out. But you really liked Dalton?”

“I loved Dalton,” Blaine said. “I skipped 5th and 7th grades, so I was already ahead when I went there. Even though I was younger than everyone, they never treated me differently. They never shunned me for being gay. In fact, I made my first real friends at Dalton. To this day, I still count Wes and David as two of my closest friends,despite our age difference.”

“That’s great,” Kurt said. “I have to admit that I’m a little nervous about starting at a new school, even one where I won’t be tormented for being gay. There’s no guarantee that I’ll make friends.”

“I think you will,” Blaine said. “Because you really are an amazing person, Kurt. And the boys at Dalton will see that just like I did.”

“Thank you,” Kurt said quietly and then laughed a little. “I seem to say that a lot, but it seems so inadequate. You’ve really gone out of your way to help me and I don’t know how I will ever repay your kindness.”

“There’s nothing to repay,” Blaine said. “I mean, I know we just met, but I… I hope you consider me a friend. And friends help each other.”

“I do consider you a friend,” Kurt agreed with a shy smile. “My best friend. My only friend, really.”

“I’m glad,” Blaine said with a soft smile. And then he realized what he had said and backtracked. “Not that I’m glad you don’t have other friends, just that you consider me a friend.”

Kurt chuckled. “You are such a dork. I knew what you meant.”

BKBKBKBKBK

Blaine went home that night and didn’t come back that weekend. Kurt went to work on Saturday and Jack told him that Blaine had been by earlier to get him to write a letter regarding Kurt’s emancipation petition. Kurt was disappointed that he had missed Blaine but his mind was taken up with thoughts about the garage and his decision to sell. 

Weekends were short days and the garage closed at 5 instead of 8. So when the garage began shutting down for the evening, Kurt asked Jack to stay for a while. He was happy to help Kurt close up and then they sat down in the office together, both enjoying a soda from the little fridge that Kurt kept stocked for the employees.

“So, I’ve been reviewing my financial situation with Blaine, the lawyer who came in before,” Kurt said. “And it appears that I’m a little better off than I thought. My mom left me a small inheritance that came from her family. And my dad refused to touch it.”

Jack smiled at that. “He wouldn’t. He always said that it was his job to take care of his kid.”

Kurt returned Jack’s smile. “Yeah. Anyway, that money just kept growing over the years and the long and the short of it is that I don’t need to keep the garage to survive.”

Jack’s face fell. “So you’re going to sell it?”

Kurt nodded slowly. “Well, I was hoping that you might want to buy it from me.”

Jack sat back in his chair and thought about that. “You know that I don’t have that kind of money, Kurt. And I don’t think I’m a great candidate for a loan.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of you take over the garage and pay a percentage of the profits to me until you pay it off,” Kurt said. “I’m not sure how much my dad told you about how he bought the garage, but it was a pretty similar set up. And I think he would have wanted you to take over. You’ve been with him since you graduated high school and you know this shop better than anyone, including me. I know you’ll do a good job of it.”

Jack stared down at his hands and Kurt could tell that he was getting a little emotional, so he gave him a moment.

“I’ve sketched out a proposal,” Kurt said once he could tell that Jack was okay. “I think the asking price is fair, and I’ve calculated the payments to be about 50% of the average profits. At that rate, you can have the place paid off in about five years.”

“I’ll just have to find another mechanic,” Jack complained. “You know you’re one of the best, don’t you?”

Kurt grinned. “I do know that. But I also know that it won’t be as hard to find someone if you aren’t limited by their ability to deal with me.”

“Nah, I don’t care if you’re here or not,” Jack said seriously. “Hummel Tire and Lube will never hire bigots.”

“Thanks Jack,” Kurt said quietly. “And if you need an extra hand until you find someone, you know you can call me. But I may not be able to get here by four anymore.”

“Why’s that?” Jack asked.

“I might be starting school down in Westerville,” Kurt said. “I have a meeting on Monday with the headmaster. They have a zero-tolerance policy against bullying.”

“Good,” Jack said. “Leave the homophobic assholes behind and get yourself someplace safe.”

“I’ll give you a copy of the plan I’ve outlined and let you read it over,” Kurt said. “If you want to make any changes to the payment schedule or anything, let me know. Then I’ll have Blaine write it up and we can sign it in a few days.”

They both stood, and Jack shook Kurt’s hand. “Your dad would be so proud of you, you know that?”

“I hope so,” Kurt said with a tearful smile.

“I know so,” Jack said with conviction.

BKBKBKBKBK

The shop was closed on Sundays, so Kurt had a whole day to catch up on all of the things that seemed to get pushed aside during the week. Things like housekeeping, grocery shopping, laundry and homework. If there was any time left, Kurt usually spent it painting.

That Sunday, Kurt spent the morning doing his usual chores, but he spent the afternoon sorting through the house, deciding what things he wanted to keep when the house sold, what things he would sell, and what would be donated to charity. It was a difficult thing to do. Sorting through his father’s possessions, even finding a few things left of his mother’s, was heartbreaking. 

He was grateful when the doorbell rang around 6 that evening. He had spent too much time crying and not enough time working, so a break was probably a good thing.

He decided it was definitely a good thing when he found Blaine standing on his doorstep.

"I gave you a key," Kurt said with a smile. "You could have just let yourself in."

"But you didn’t know I was coming," Blaine explained. "I didn’t want to intrude."

"You wouldn’t be intruding," Kurt told him as he let him inside. "Next time, just come in."

"Thanks," Blaine said. "I brought dinner. I hope you like Chinese."

"Love it," Kurt said as he led the way to the kitchen. "I’ll eat pretty much anything on the menu." Since there were only two Chinese food places in Lima, Kurt was positive of that statement.

Blaine set the bags on the table and looked around the kitchen. There were post-it notes everywhere in several different colors.

"Um, what’s up with the post-its?" Blaine asked as Kurt began pulling out plates.

Kurt glanced around the room as though he had forgotten that they were there. Perhaps he had.

"Oh, I decided to start sorting through everything," Kurt said. "Pink means sell, green means storage, yellow is for charity, and blue is going to where ever I end up living."

"Wow," Blaine said. "That’s a lot more organized than anything I ever do."

Kurt shrugged. "It helps me. Anyway, I was thinking of having a yard sale next weekend."

Blaine shrugged. "I’ve never done that, but I’ll come help if you’d like."

Kurt looked at Blaine like he was crazy. "You’ve never had a yard sale?"

"Never even been to one," Blaine said. "My parents are... snobs, I guess is the nicest way to put it."

"Well then, be prepared for a truly unique experience," Kurt laughed. "After dinner, you can help me get all of the items marked with pink post-its to the garage and start tagging them."

And that was how the two spent the rest of the evening. By the time Blaine left, more than half of the contents of Kurt’s home were in the garage and labeled with little stickers. 

Kurt looked around the house after Blaine left and sighed. It seemed so empty, and yet it had seemed empty since his father had died, so it wasn’t much different. He went to the small room at the back of the house that Kurt used as a studio. Nothing had changed in there. Everything would go with him. And only a few clothes had been removed from Kurt’s bedroom.

Burt Hummel’s personal things weren’t going to be sold. His clothes would go to charity and Kurt decided to bring his vast collection of baseball caps to the garage and see if any of the guys wanted them. Kurt just couldn’t bear the thought of witnessing strangers digging through his father’s favorite things. 

Kurt was keeping a few things, too. Like his father’s favorite flannel shirt and one of his work shirts, with his name embroidered on the chest. But all of the videos that Burt had liked were going. Most of his music, as well. Burt had never made the transition to CD, let alone digital and Kurt just couldn’t imagine keeping all of those old LPs or the bulky stereo.

There weren’t many family photos, but Kurt was keeping the few he had. After his mother died, neither Hummel male had felt much like taking pictures. But there was one of Kurt and Burt at the shop, taken the day that Kurt got his mechanic’s license. And one from Kurt’s first art show last year. The show where Blaine apparently bought his painting.

Kurt went to his father’s bedroom and sat on the bed. He picked up his pillow, which still had the lingering scent of his father in the fabric and lifted it to his face, inhaling that familiar odor.

"I have no idea what you would make of Blaine, Dad," Kurt said to the empty room. "I think you’d like him, but I wonder. He’s been so kind to me and I really think I could fall for him. But he’s so much older. Well, not really. Six years isn’t much in the grand scheme of things, but I wonder what you would think. He’s already finished college and has a career."

Kurt chuckled to himself. "I take it back. I think I know what you would say. You’d say: don’t rush into anything. If it’s meant to be, it’ll happen. And you would remind me that I matter."

Kurt swiped at the tears that were running down his cheeks. "I miss you so much, Dad."

BKBKBKBKBK

Kurt called into the school to tell Miss Pillsbury that he wouldn’t be in that day or the next. When she asked why, he explained about the emancipation hearing and looking at transferring to Dalton. She was sad but understanding and promised to do whatever she could to expedite the transfer, should it happen.

Blaine arrived at Kurt’s house to pick him up just after 9 that morning. The trip down to Westerville was relatively quiet. Blaine pointed out when they passed through the small town where he had purchased a house last year. Mostly, however, they listened to music. Blaine’s playlists were surprisingly similar to Kurt’s own.

"There really isn’t any reason to be nervous," Blaine told him when they got close to the school. "Mr. Harrison is really nice. And I explained your situation, so we won’t have to go through everything again. I think that this meeting is more for you to decide if Dalton is right for you."

"I hope it is," Kurt said quietly.

They arrived at the campus and Kurt was immediately impressed. It wasn’t anything like McKinley. In fact, Dalton was more like Kurt pictured a college campus. There were several old, ivy covered buildings and Blaine pointed each one out and told Kurt what was inside.

They parked in the visitor’s lot, near the main building and Kurt followed Blaine through the impressive front doors.

Once inside, Kurt was again impressed with the plentiful oak paneling and parquet floors. But his inspection of the architecture was interrupted by numerous boys rushing past them.

"I wonder what’s going on?" Kurt mused.

Blaine grinned. "The Warblers must be giving an impromptu performance. We have a few minutes before we’re scheduled to meet with Mr. Harrison. We could go check it out."

It wasn’t hard to find the mini-concert. They just followed all of the boys wearing blue blazers. And when they arrived, Kurt was treated to an amazing rendition of Uptown Girl. It looked like the entire school was crammed into the room and they were all smiling and enjoying the performance.

When it was over, they clapped along with the students, and then headed back towards the administrative offices. 

"McKinley used to have a glee club," Kurt said. "But the teacher was fired for feeling up the male students and no one else wanted to take it on. But no one ever treated the kids in glee club like that. They were almost as harassed as me." 

"Well, at Dalton, the Warblers are kind of like rock stars," Blaine said with a grin. "Being a part of that was so amazing."

"You were in the glee club?" Kurt asked with surprise.

"Don’t sound so shocked," Blaine pouted. "I’m very talented. In fact, I was the lead soloist in my junior and senior years."

"I believe you," Kurt said. "I was just surprised because, well, you’re a lawyer now."

Blaine shrugged. "Not everyone in glee club wants to be a performer. Don’t get me wrong, I loved it while I was doing it, and I made some great friends, but I always wanted to help people, and becoming a lawyer seemed like a better way to do that than standing up on a stage."

"Well, I’m personally glad you became a lawyer instead of a singer," Kurt said. 

They arrived at the headmaster’s office and were soon greeted by Mr. Harrison. Rather than sitting in the office, as they talked, he began to give Kurt a tour of the campus.

"I spoke with the guidance counselor at your current school," Mr. Harrison said. "She sent me a copy of your transcript. She also told me a little more about what you’ve gone through at your old school. I can assure you that nothing like that will ever happen at Dalton. We take bullying very seriously."

"That’s what Blaine said," Kurt said. "And I have to admit that just seeing the other boys in the hall earlier was pretty telling. There was no shoving or rude names. It was like they weren’t even teenaged boys."

Mr. Harrison laughed. "They can get rowdy at times, but for the most part, they are good boys and know where to draw the line between teasing and tormenting."

"It sounds like Utopia," Kurt said.

They walked through a couple buildings with Mr. Harrison and Blaine both pointing out things of interest. It wasn’t until they reached the arts building, however, that Kurt really got excited.

"Miss Pillsbury mentioned you were a very talented artist," Mr. Harrison said with a smile. "We’re rather proud of our arts programs at Dalton, both fine and performing arts. As you can see, we offer electives in a variety of mediums."

"I’ve mostly worked with oils so far," Kurt said. "But I’ve been dying to see what I can do with mixed medium, photography and sculpture."

"We even have a course for textiles," Mr. Harrison said. "It always amazes me the things our students can create."

They stopped in to watch a sculpting class for a few minutes before moving on to another class working on life drawings.

"This is just amazing," Kurt said once they were back in the hall. "I didn’t think I could get exposure like this until I got to college."

"Many of our best artists go to the top arts colleges in the country," Mr. Harrison said. "Yale and Columbia and Rhode Island, but also Ohio State, which is actually in the top 15 nationally. And many earn scholarships based on their talents."

"I’ve made up my mind," Kurt said. "I would like to come to Dalton."

"I knew that the arts program would sway you," Blaine teased. 

"Well, why don’t we head back to my office and we can discuss the details?" Mr. Harrison suggested.

A few minutes later, they were settled into the comfortable leather sofas in the headmaster’s office.

"Well, Kurt," Mr. Harrison said. "After reading through your transcript earlier, I don’t think that you’ll have any trouble with the academics at Dalton, even transferring in mid-term. I do have concerns about the fact that you live so far away. Unfortunately, we don’t currently have any rooms available for boarding students."

Kurt bit his lip thoughtfully. "Well, I’m in the process of selling my house. It’s just too much for me living there all by myself now. I was going to get an apartment after I’m emancipated. It shouldn’t be a problem finding something more convenient to school. It’ll just mean a longer commute for the first couple weeks or so."

"As long as you don’t let it interfere with your studies, I suppose it will be alright for a brief time," Mr. Harrison agreed. "In that case, let’s discuss the more mundane aspects."

BKBKBKBKBK

"You know, I was thinking," Blaine said once they were on their way back toward Lima. "My property has a rather large guest cottage and it’s only twenty minutes from Dalton. If you wanted, you could stay there as long as you like. I mean, you could stay until you found a place you like, or you could stay until you graduate from Dalton. Or... you could stay until you graduate from college."

Kurt was silent for a while as he considered the offer. "Can I see it before I give you an answer?"

"The turn is coming up," Blaine said with a smile. "We can go look right now."

Kurt smiled and watched as Blaine took a couple turns off the main road and drove into a rather luxurious housing development. Each house was more like a mansion and had several acres of property surrounding it. Each one was also enclosed by walls. Some were brick, others stone. Some had wrought iron at that top. When Blaine pulled up to a gate and punched in a code on the key pad, Kurt just shook his head.

"I know lawyers make good money, but you’ve only been practicing for three years, right?" Kurt asked.

Blaine chuckled. "I bought this house with money I inherited from my great grandfather. I told you my parents are snobs. Well, that’s because they have more money than they know what to do with. I don’t have nearly as much as they do, but I’m comfortable, even without my income as a lawyer."

Kurt shook his head again, but didn’t reply. He was too caught up in looking around the property. It was even larger than he had estimated from his view from the road. They had been driving for a few minutes and hadn’t even seen the house yet. But as they pulled around a bend in the drive, Kurt finally caught sight of the place Blaine called home.

Blaine’s house was a huge brick and clapboard Victorian style structure, with all of the architectural details that Kurt loved about that era. In the fall sunlight, it seemed to dominate the landscape. 

And the landscape was nothing to sneeze at either. They had driven through a mini-forest at the front of the property but once they reached a bend in the road, the land opened up. The drive was shaded by large oak trees, but there were wide expanses of lawn on either side of the drive. Near the house, the more formal landscaping took over and Kurt could see clusters of fall flowers still in bloom in stone urns and along the foundation of the house.

"It’s beautiful," Kurt said.

"Thanks," Blaine said. "I mostly pay other people to take care of it to make sure it stays that way. I’m a horrible gardener and worse housekeeper."

They drove around the back of the house and past the six car garage before turning off the main drive. The side road led through another small forest to the guest house. It was like a miniature of the main house. Rather than four stories, it was only two, but it had a circular tower at the front, just like the main house and all of the colorful details were the same.

"Come on," Blaine said once he had parked his car. "Let’s go look inside."

At first, Kurt thought that the house had to be as big as his house in Lima, but once he got inside, he realized that the lofted ceilings and lack of depth to the footprint of the house made it much more manageable than his current home.

The front door led directly into the spacious great room that took up more than half of the house. With its vaulted ceilings, marble fireplace and exposed beams, Kurt loved every detail of the room. The kitchen area had state of the art appliances and more counter and cupboard space than Kurt had ever seen outside of a magazine or TV show. He could easily see himself cooking there. 

There was a doorway and a staircase to the right of the entry. The doorway led to a small den. The staircase led to the large bedroom suite complete with a large walk in closet and a bathroom that looked like it was taken straight from a spa.

"I saved the best part for last," Blaine said as he led Kurt back down the stairs. Behind the staircase, near the kitchen, there were two doors that Kurt hadn’t noticed before. One led to a half bath. Kurt was pretty sure that wasn’t what had Blaine so excited.

The second door led to a conservatory. Kurt’s dad would have called it a sun room, but it was so much more than that. Two walls were completely floor to ceiling windows and there were three skylights in the room giving even more natural light. In the corner, there was even a small utility sink.

"The realtor told me that the previous owner’s mother lived here and this was her greenhouse, of sorts," Blaine explained. "But I think it would be a perfect place for you to paint."

"It’s amazing," Kurt said a little breathlessly. 

"So does that mean you’ll move in?" Blaine wondered.

"It means we should discuss how much you want to charge for rent," Kurt told him.

Blaine frowned. "I don’t need the money."

"And I don’t need charity," Kurt countered. "Look, Blaine, you’re already doing so much for me and you haven’t even once discussed your legal fees. I’m not going to just keep taking advantage, even if it’s freely given. That’s not what friends do."

Blaine sighed. "Fine. I won’t take a penny more than $300 a month."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "You realize that this place could easily earn more than four times that if you rented it properly?"

Blaine shrugged. "But I wouldn’t rent it out to just anyone. So if you don’t take it, it’ll just sit empty like it has for the past two years."

Kurt shook his head but was smiling. "Fine I’ll agree to your $300 a month, but you have to let me cook you dinner at least once a week."

"Deal," Blaine said and stuck out his hand to shake. 

Kurt laughed and took his hand.

BKBKBKBKBK

Blaine had to go into the office after he dropped Kurt off, so Kurt spent the rest of Monday calling moving companies and charities to pick up the items he wanted to give away. Now that he had a better idea of where he would be living, he decided to sell a few more pieces of furniture that wouldn’t fit into the decor he was planning. 

He also made an appointment with a tailor for early the next morning, before the hearing, to have his new Dalton uniforms fitted properly. He and Blaine had stopped at the shop that provided students with their uniforms before leaving Westerville, but there was no way Kurt would wear them as they were, and he didn’t have the time to alter them himself.

Because Kurt had so much to do to get ready, Mr. Harrison had suggested that Kurt wait until Monday to start at Dalton. So Kurt had Wednesday through Friday to get everything sorted and packed. Then Saturday was the yard sale. And on Sunday, the movers would come and Kurt would take the final step in moving on with his life.

It was a scary thought, but Kurt was too busy to dwell on it too much. After he had made the arrangements, Kurt got to work packing. He worked late into the night, afraid that if he stopped before he was exhausted that he would dream. Dreams these days were scary things. They usually meant reliving the fear and anxiety that had been ever-present while Burt was in the hospital and then reliving the anger and grief that came after.

Kurt was up early the next morning to go to the tailor. The hearing wasn’t until afternoon, so Kurt had time to be fitted and measured so that each blazer, each pair of pants, each shirt fit perfectly. Once that was done, he headed back to the house to change into his third favorite suit. This one was light gray, with iridescent fabric to make it look silver. He wore a simple white shirt and a black bow tie with a silver key dangling from a chain. He also wore his favorite antique silver brooch. It was an art deco leaf motif with several crystal flowers.

Kurt checked his appearance in the mirror one last time before heading up to wait for Blaine. Blaine was, of course, right on time and stepped through the front door just as Kurt had reached the top step.

"Don’t be nervous," Blaine told him on the way to the courthouse. It was almost exactly like the morning before and Kurt had to smile at that.

"I am a little," Kurt admitted. "But I trust that it’ll all work out. I trust you."

"Good," Blaine said with a smile as he pulled his car into the courthouse parking lot.

The entire process took less than an hour, and fifteen minutes of that was spent waiting to be called into the judge’s chambers. Kurt was surprised when the social worker who had been showing up at his house on and off over the last month appeared. But when the judge asked her opinion, the woman simply agreed that Kurt seemed to be functioning quite well without supervision, and she said that she didn’t believe that Kurt would benefit from state supervision.

Blaine took the judge through all of the testimonial letters that he had gathered and explained Kurt’s financial situation. He even told the judge about Kurt being bullied, starting at Dalton next week and selling the house and garage. By the end, Kurt felt like his entire life was on display. But the judge smiled at him and declared him an adult and it was over.

"I didn’t have time for lunch," Blaine said as they left the courthouse. "And I’d be willing to bet that you were more worried about your outfit than eating before the hearing. So what say we stop somewhere for lunch and to celebrate?"

"That actually sounds really good," Kurt said.

Soon, they were seated at Breadstix and had placed their orders.

"I forgot to tell you," Kurt said. "I talked with Jack this morning. He read through the proposal I gave him and has a couple minor changes he’d like to include."

"Email me the details when you get home and I’ll have the contract ready by Thursday," Blaine told him. "So, how does it feel to be emancipated?"

Kurt shrugged. "Not much different, really. I feel a lot less worry over the whole state custody thing. But basically, it just makes a few things easier."

Blaine nodded. "I wanted to let you know, Cooper talked to David Karofsky and his father yesterday. He didn’t give me many details, but he said it went well. Mr. Karofsky had noticed his son’s change in behavior but couldn’t understand the reasons for it. He agreed that David would start anger management classes once a week and counseling with an adolescent psychologist."

"Good," Kurt said with a sigh. "As much as I hate him for what he put me through, I also feel sorry for him. I’ve always known who and what I am. And if I hadn’t known, I had plenty of people point it out to me over the years. But guys like that..."

"It’s too easy to hide," Blaine agreed. "And so they end up hiding from themselves as well. When did your dad know?"

"When did he know or when did I tell him?" Kurt asked with a small smile. "Because I didn’t tell him until last year. I was all scared and nervous but he just said: So? It doesn’t change who you are or how I feel about you. And that was that."

"And when did he know?" Blaine asked.

"He said it was when I asked for a pair of sensible heels for my fourth birthday," Kurt said with and embarrassed laugh.

Blaine laughed too. "I suppose that would be a giveaway."

"Well, if that hadn’t done it, then the tea parties and tiara collection would have, for sure," Kurt admitted.

"You collected tiaras as a kid?" Blaine asked. "That’s awesome."

"Actually, I still collect them," Kurt said. "They’re packed away right now, but I’ll show you after the move, if you’re interested."

"I’d love to see them," Blaine said. "My parents never let me have anything that wasn’t gender appropriate. But our housekeeper, Anna, used to have tea parties with me sometimes when my parents weren’t around."

"It just goes to show that it doesn’t really matter how you raise your child; if they’re gay, they’re gay," Kurt said. "And enforcing your biases and bigotry on them won’t change that."

"I agree wholeheartedly," Blaine said.

Their food arrived and for a few minutes they were quiet while they ate. After the first rush of hunger had been assuaged, Kurt got around to talking again.

"So, if they were so uptight about tea parties, how did they react when you came out?" Kurt asked.

"They basically ignored my declaration, and me, for six months," Blaine said. "In that time, my father decided he and I needed to rebuild a car together. Unfortunately, neither of us knows a thing about cars. Basically, we stared at the hunk of junk in silence every weekend for three months. Then my dad gave up and had the thing hauled away."

Kurt shook his head and teasingly said, "Amateurs." 

Blaine chuckled. "Yeah, we were. Anyway, my parents didn’t really acknowledge my homosexuality until I was beat up after a school dance because I dared to go with another boy. That’s when they sent me to Dalton. Even though we lived only fifteen minutes away, they had me board. They said it was so that I could bond with the other boys. In reality, it was because they didn’t want to be reminded that they had spawned a homosexual."

Blaine sighed. "Don’t get me wrong. My parents care about me in their own way. They simply have no idea how to deal with me. And to be perfectly frank, I have no idea how to deal with them either. These days, we see each other for dinner at Christmas and Easter. We talk on the phone about once a month. And that’s more than enough for any of us."

"But you’re close with your brother?" Kurt asked. After all, the two were partners in a law firm together.

"We are now," Blaine said. "Not as much growing up. I was a lot younger than Cooper, and I mostly annoyed him and he ignored me. But he was finishing up his law degree at Harvard when I went as an undergrad and he sort of took me under his wing that first year. Since then, we’ve been very close. And when I passed the bar, he suggested we open a firm together."

"Why Lima, though?" Kurt asked with his nose wrinkled in distaste.

Blaine shrugged. "Cooper was working for another firm in town at the time and had contacts in the area. These days, we have almost as many contacts in Columbus because we’ve had to argue a few cases at the state courthouse. We’ve talked about moving our offices there but haven’t really had the impetus to follow through yet."

“I would think that there would be a lot more opportunities,” Kurt said with a shrug. “Plus your house is a lot closer to Columbus than it is to Lima. That’s gotta be horrific commute.”

“Actually, I rather enjoy riding through the back roads of Ohio each morning,” Blaine said smugly. “I like the scenery and watching how it changes as the seasons change. I like stopping at the roadside stands to get fresh produce directly from the farmers on my way home. It’s a nice contrast to the sometimes stressful job I have.”

“Living in a garden paradise must help with that,” Kurt said. “How many acres do you actually own? I never did see the entire property.”

Blaine smiled sheepishly. “Well, most of the lots in that area are between 20 and 50 acres. But the lot I bought was originally owned by the man who developed the area and he kept the biggest piece of land for himself.”

“And you still haven’t answered my question,” Kurt said.

“About 150 acres,” Blaine said. “I’m on the northern edge of the development, so like most of the properties, it’s only about 10 acres deep, but it’s about fifteen acres wide. A lot of that is totally undeveloped forest and fallow fields. There is a horse barn and a few riding trails, but I’ve never had the time or inclination to actually keep horses. Coop keeps telling me I should, but that’s just because he loved riding when we were kids.”

“Couldn’t he just get his own horse?” Kurt asked.

“He could,” Blaine laughed. “But Coop is… a great lawyer and a great brother, but he’s very flighty in many ways. I could never imagine him taking on responsibility for a horse. Or a dog. Or even a house plant.”

“That is…” Kurt shook his head, unable to form a reply that wasn’t completely rude.

“It’s Cooper,” Blaine said. “You either love him or hate him.”   
BKBKBKBKBK

The rest of the week was a whirlwind of activity for Kurt. Each day, he sorted and packed—broken up by bouts of crying—and each evening, Blaine stopped in with dinner and helped out for a couple hours before heading back to his home. Friday night, Blaine stayed over at Kurt’s insistence. He told the older man that regular yard sale shoppers always arrived early, and they had to be set up and ready before they started to arrive. So at an ungodly hour of the morning, the two rolled out of bed and began setting up for the sale.

Blaine was in awe as people started to arrive and pick through the remnants of Kurt’s possessions without any sensitivity or decorum. They tried to haggle down already low prices. They came and left so quickly that Blaine could hardly keep his head on straight. But by noon, things had slowed considerably and they were able to sit for a few minutes. 

“Is it always this crazy?” Blaine wondered.

“Always,” Kurt told him. “But things will be slow from now on. There will be a few stragglers, and then around three, we’ll get the vultures." 

“The vultures?” Blaine asked with a frown.

“The ones who come around to try and buy up anything that’s left over for cheap,” Kurt said. “They’ll come in with trucks already packed to bursting and offer to take everything off our hands for one price.”

“And will we deal with them?” Blaine wondered.

“Normally, I would just accept whatever they offer, but this time, I think I’ll haggle a little,” Kurt shrugged. “If they don’t like my bottom line, then so be it. There’s a charity truck coming at 5 to pick up the stuff I didn’t want to sell. So anything that’s left will just go to them.”

Blaine offered to pick up lunch a little while later, and they ate while a few families came and went, buying a few things. All of the videos and LPs had sold early. Most of the clothes were thoroughly picked-through, and only the most worn and most unusual items were left. There were quite a few household items left: old puzzles, kitchen appliances that were as old as Kurt, random dishes, a picture of Elvis painted on black velvet, random Christmas decorations, and a few books. 

“I sold a collection of decorative plates my grandmother gave to my mom years ago on Ebay,” Kurt told Blaine. “Along with a tea set, a collection of pounded aluminum decorative pieces, a couple vases and some of the vintage fashion that no longer fits me. My dad’s bedroom set and the dining room set I sold on Craig’s list. Most of the furniture and larger items we put out today have sold. 

“I dropped by the garage yesterday and gave the guys there my dad’s ball cap collection,” Kurt continued. “And I let Carole come by and pick out a few things to keep the other day. Everything else is either packed for storage in the dining room, packed to move in the living room, or in the garage ready to be picked up by charity. Tonight I’ll start cleaning the rooms that are already empty and tomorrow I’ll clean the living room and dining room as the movers empty them. You’ll go ahead of the movers to direct them on the other end. And the realtor already has a key to the house to start showing it.”

“Sounds like you have everything covered,” Blaine said.

Kurt shook his head. “That’s just it. I feel like I’ve forgotten something and I just can’t figure out what it is.”

“Well, whatever it is, I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Blaine said. “And if you don’t remember before tomorrow, then you can come back and take care of it after school one day this week. It’s not like you’re moving to Europe.”

“School,” Kurt murmured. “Oh! That’s what I forgot. My uniforms!” He looked at his watch and swore under his breath. “The tailor closes in twenty minutes and won’t open again until Tuesday.”

“Tell me where it is,” Blaine said. “I’ll go pick them up right now.”

So, minutes later, Blaine was rushing across town while Kurt held down the fort at the house. After convincing the little old man who ran the tailor shop that he had Kurt’s permission to pick up his clothes, Blaine stopped for pizza and headed back. By the time he returned with Kurt’s uniforms, the charity truck was already loading up the last few items from the garage. Kurt took the garment bags from Blaine and hung them up in his Navigator, alongside a few other items that he hadn’t wanted to pack into boxes.

They ate dinner on the floor in the kitchen before starting to clean. They worked one room at a time: washing walls, filling in nail holes in the walls, touching up the paint, and scrubbing the floors on their way out. By the time Blaine fell asleep on the sofa that used to be in Kurt’s room, the kitchen, upstairs bathroom, the master bedroom, Kurt’s old studio and the garage had been thoroughly cleaned. All that was left were Kurt’s bedroom and bath, the living room, the dining room and front hall.

The next morning, the movers arrived early. Rather than risking getting the storage mixed up with the rest of the load, they decided to take those boxes to the storage unit first. While they were loading up, Kurt and Blaine went to work on cleaning Kurt’s bedroom and bathroom, then the newly emptied dining room. When the movers returned, they loaded up the truck again, and Blaine left with them, leaving Kurt to finish up the last of the cleaning.

When he arrived at his new home, having only missed his turn once, he found Blaine waving off the moving truck.

“You certainly labeled everything very clearly and precisely,” Blaine said when Kurt stepped onto the porch. “The movers were very impressed. Not only did you write what each box contains, you labeled which room it should go in and the order it should be opened.”

“Let’s just hope that they didn’t bury the boxes that were labeled open first,” Kurt sighed. “I am so exhausted I don’t think I could unpack more than the bare minimum tonight.”

“Well, the good news is that because you were so organized, the movers didn’t need me very much,” Blaine said. “I was able to start unpacking a few of those most important boxes already. So your bed is made, the coffee pot is hooked up and the timer set to brew in the morning. Your towels are in the linen cupboard in the bathroom and your toiletries are either on the shelf beside the sink or in the shower.”  “Thank Gaga,” Kurt murmured. “And thank you, Blaine. I’m not sure how I would have gotten everything done without your help.”

“Hey, I was just the manual labor,” Blaine said. “You did all the hard stuff. And I was happy to help. Now, let’s get your hanging clothes and suitcases from the car. Then you can get a shower while I order dinner. And after dinner, you are heading straight for bed.”

Kurt grinned. “Is that an order?”

“It is,” Blaine declared. 

Kurt shrugged. “Okay. Just checking. I’m too tired to argue.”

BKBKBKBKBK

The next morning, despite feeling like he had been beaten up over the weekend, Kurt was up early to get ready for his first day at Dalton. Mr. Harrison had asked him to come in early to go over his schedule and Kurt also wanted to leave a little early in case he got lost on the way. Thankfully, Blaine had not only set the coffee timer, he had found and set out Kurt’s travel mug, the non-dairy creamer he only used in emergencies, and the sugar. What he didn’t find was a spoon to stir the coffee. So Kurt improvised and shook up the coffee instead. He was rather glad that with the flip lid closed, the mug was actually spill proof.

The trip to Dalton was fairly simple once Kurt got to the main road. He had finished his coffee by the time he arrived in Westerville, and he was a few minutes early, so he stopped at a coffee shop he noticed to get a mocha latte. When he parked the Navigator, Kurt felt a little conspicuous in his uniform, but he shouldn’t have worried. When he entered the shop, he found that there were a half dozen other Dalton students already there, sitting around and talking before school.

“You’re a new face,” the guy in uniform in front of Kurt in line said.

“First day,” Kurt told him. “I’m supposed to meet with Mr. Harrison in half an hour.”

“I’m Nick,” the guy said as he held out his hand to shake. Kurt took it with a small smile. “I’m not sure how much you remember about getting around Dalton, but I could ride with you and show you the way, if you’d like.”

“I’m Kurt,” Kurt told him. “And… yes, I’d like that. Thank you.”

It was Nick’s turn to order and then Kurt’s, so the next few minutes were occupied with other things, but once they both had their drinks, Nick led Kurt over to where the other Dalton boys were sitting. “Hey guys, this is Kurt. It’s his first day, so I’m going to ride back with him to show him where student parking is and help him get to Mr. Harrison’s office.”

“Good to meet you Kurt,” a blond boy said as he stood up to greet them. “I’m Jeff. And these guys are Trent, Cord, Rob and Sebastian.”

“Nice to meet you all,” Kurt said with a small smile.

“Do you sing?” the boy Jeff had introduced as Trent asked.

Kurt’s brow rose in surprise. “Well, not much. Nothing formal at least. I’ve always been more interested in art. But I love music. Why?”

“We’re all in the Warblers,” Nick said.

Kurt looked at him. “That’s why I recognized you. You sang Uptown Girl last week when I was touring the campus.”

“That was me,” Nick agreed. 

“Forget him,” Sebastian said with a leer. “You want to see real talent, come watch me sing. I’ll impress you, new guy. I’ll have you begging… to sing with me.”

“Shut it, Sebastian,” Rob said with a roll of his eyes. “Pay no attention to Sebastian. He’s got an over inflated ego and a shortage of gay boys who don’t see right through him.”

Kurt looked at Sebastian and smirked. “While I’m flattered, I’m also not interested. Thanks.”

“And there’s another gay boy who sees through your questionable charm,” Jeff laughed.

“We should go,” Nick said. 

Kurt nodded. “It was a pleasure meeting you all. Or, well, most of you.”

Nick was still laughing when they reached Kurt’s SUV. “While Sebastian can be a bit much at times, he’s mostly harmless. And you should consider auditioning for the Warblers. If you can sing at all, that is. All the guys in the group are pretty great, and it would be a good way to develop some friendships right away.”

“I’ll think about it,” Kurt said. “But I was being honest when I said my interests are more in the fine arts than the performing arts. One of the reasons I chose to come to Dalton is the amazing arts programs they offer. I only have a year to take advantage of it, so I want to spend as much time as I can doing just that.”

Nick nodded. “Well, at least you’ll know one guy in the arts track. Jeff is a pretty great graphic artist. So, how’d you end up coming to Dalton mid-term?”

Kurt was quiet for a few moments as he considered his answer. “Well, it was actually a combination of things. My dad died, and then the bullying at my old school got worse. And Blaine suggested that I’d be safer here.”

“Blaine?” Nick asked.

Kurt flushed. “He’s my lawyer. And landlord, now. And friend.” Kurt shook his head and shrugged. “Anyway, Blaine used to go to Dalton. In fact, he said he used to be a Warbler.”

“Wait, Blaine Anderson?” Nick asked. “He’s sort of a legend around here. His voice had barely dropped when he joined the warblers, but he was almost immediately elected as the lead soloist. We don’t really have lead soloists. We’re usually a very democratic group. Everything is decided by auditions and votes. But Blaine Anderson defied all the norms.”

Kurt chuckled. “Blaine didn’t tell me all of that, but it doesn’t surprise me. He has a way of getting people to do what he wants just by being charming and then he’s surprised that they would be nice to him.”

The conversation turned then as Nick gave Kurt directions to the student parking and then led the way to the main building. Kurt recalled most of the way, but it was good having someone there to help him out. Nick left him at the door to Mr. Harrison’s office and knocked at the door.   
 A few minutes later, after the pleasantries were out of the way, Mr. Harrison brought Kurt to the guidance office, where he was able to sit down with one of the five counselors that the school employed. Ms. Jameson was extremely helpful. She asked all the right questions to discover Kurt’s interests and future goals in a matter of minutes. They went through the required courses Kurt would need to graduate first and then began filling in the electives that Kurt really wanted to take. When they were finished, Kurt was thrilled with his new course schedule.

He had missed homeroom, but they finished in time for Kurt to be only a few minutes late to his first period class. The map that Ms. Jameson gave him not only clearly delineated the entire campus, but had each of his courses marked on it along with times and color-coded lines leading from one classroom to the next. 

Kurt recognized Nick and Rob in his first class, history, and they smiled and waved before the teacher called their attention back the subject at hand. Kurt took the only open seat , in the second to last row, and found that while his class at McKinley had already covered the subject, their study hadn’t been nearly as in depth or interesting. He was soon caught up in the discussion and was surprised when the bell rang at the end of the period.

Much of Kurt’s day passed in a similar manner. Cord was in his second period, calculus class. Jeff was in his third period life drawing class. Almost every class he went to, there was a familiar face from the coffee shop. It helped that there just weren’t half as many students at Dalton as there were at McKinley. It also helped that all but two of the boys he met that morning were also seniors—Sebastian was a junior, Kurt learned, and Trent was a sophomore.


	5. Prime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Primes are people with special gifts. Kurt, a prime, is whisked away to a special school when he is young to learn how to control his gifts and eventually meet his mate.

There were things in life that were inevitable and inescapable. One of those things was the testing of every child upon reaching puberty. Everyone was required by law to submit to the nationally mandated tests between the ages of 10 and 15, as soon as their personal physician indicated that they had reached puberty.

The mandatory testing was developed in the 1950’s when doctors and scientists were finally able to isolate the genetic makeup that differentiated normal humans from Primes. The existence of Primes had been documented for centuries before that, but there was no way to distinguish them from ordinary humans until much later in life, when their gifts manifested, often in uncontrollable and unfortunate ways. But with the genetic testing, scientists were able to identify young people with the potential to become Primes and the government was able to establish protocols for Prime training that minimized destructive manifestations.

So for more than fifty years, all children were tested and potential Primes were whisked away to special training facilities. Not much was known about the actual training regimens beyond the very basics that the government released to the media, and few Primes were willing to discuss their training once they were released back into mainstream society. All that most would say when asked by reporters or friends alike was that it was beneficial and they were not in any way abused or mistreated.

Kurt Hummel was tested later than most. The fact that his voice did not drop when most boys did confused his doctor and so they waited until a month before Kurt’s 16th birthday, the latest they could legally wait, to perform the tests. When the results came back positive, Kurt was glad that his voice had never dropped, despite the harassment he had received from his peers in school. Because of the confusion, he was able to spend a little more time with his father and that time meant the world to Kurt, who had lost his mother at such an early age.

“I don’t want to leave you,” Kurt mumbled into his father’s shoulder as he held on for dear life.

“I don’t want you to go, either, kiddo,” Burt Hummel told his son as he squeezed the frail looking boy tighter. “But we’ll get visits on holidays and what not. This isn’t goodbye forever.”

Kurt reluctantly pulled away and nodded as he swiped the tears from his face. “I know. And I’ll call and email you as often as I can. I just hate leaving you by yourself.”

“Hey now,” Burt blustered affectionately. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Besides, I’ve got Carole to make sure I’m eating right.”

Kurt nodded sadly. “I know. And I’m really glad you two found each other.”

“You found her for me,” Burt said with a laugh. Then he pulled Kurt into another hug. “Take care of yourself, kid. And remember I love you.”

The man from the Prime Training Center who had come to escort Kurt cleared his throat and said, “I’m sorry, but if we’re going to make our flight, we have to leave now.”

And with that, Kurt was ushered to the waiting car and Burt Hummel stood on the front porch of their modest tract house as he watched Kurt ride away.

GLEE

Kurt learned very quickly that all of the awful rumors he had heard over the years about the Prime Training Centers were complete bunk. The stories and urban legends that compared the centers to Nazi concentration camps or Russian prison camps were so far off base that Kurt had to laugh when they drove through the gates of the Marshall Center for Prime Education. There were four centers in the country, Kurt soon learned, and each one was as posh as the next. The grounds of the center looked more like an Ivy League college campus than a prison. Though there was a high stone wall with electrified iron spikes at the top around the entire perimeter, Kurt soon learned that was to keep outsiders out, not to lock the Primes away.

Kurt’s dormitory was nothing like he expected either. He had an entire suite of rooms to himself which he was allowed to furnish as he chose, funded by the center. He even had a small kitchen in his suite where he could cook his own meals if he decided that he was tired of the food at the communal dining room. There was a dorm monitor that oversaw the safety and wellbeing of the students, but mostly they were left to their own devices unless there was a problem. 

There weren’t that many other students. In fact, there were less than 400 Prime potentials in residence at any one time. It was easy to get to know all of the other students. And with the strict policies against bullying, Kurt never felt so safe or so welcome in his life. He quickly became friends with Adam, a boy two years his senior, and Chandler, a boy in his same grade. The three of them shared interests in music, Broadway and other boys. Chandler also shared Kurt’s love of fashion.

School was nothing like Kurt had experienced at McKinley or any of the schools he had attended in Lima, Ohio. Yes, they still studied things like mathematics, science, literature and languages. But they also studied Prime history, took classes in yoga and meditation, and were able to explore numerous other subjects in their elective courses. They attended class six days a week, had physical training every morning, gifts training each afternoon and spent most evenings occupied with either homework or activities organized by the dormitory monitor.

Unlike normal schools, Marshall was a middle school, a high school, and an accredited college all wrapped into one. Since most Primes manifested their gifts between the ages of 17 and 22, it was important that they be in a protected place when going through that transition. Marshall not only prepared them for the transition, but it kept them safe and sane until they could control their gifts. 

One thing Kurt learned about the school soon after he arrived was that it wasn’t really run by the government. In fact, an organization called the Prime Cooperative Council ran all of the training schools in the world. The US government may have sponsored the centers in the US and ensured that students were enrolled after testing, but it was the PCC that ran the operation and made sure that students had the best education and training possible. 

In history, Kurt learned that Primes had been in positions of power for centuries and continued to guide and direct much of the economic and political movements in North America and Europe. Though some Primes were obvious because of their gifts, the majority were not noticeable to anyone who wasn’t a Prime. And they used that ability to blend in to their advantage. Because of their power and influence, Kurt would have a distinct advantage when he finally left Marshall. No matter what career path he wanted to pursue, he would have connections as a member of the PCC.

GLEE

Kurt may have been a late bloomer when it came to puberty, but his gifts manifested much earlier than anyone had expected. It was only 18 months after he arrived at Marshall that the first manifestation occurred. 

Kurt was out in the courtyard, enjoying the spring warmth as he and Chandler studied for their Calculus final and Adam studied for his Italian final. Kurt was getting more and more frustrated by the seemingly incomprehensible math when Adam asked him to quiz him. Relieved at the excuse to set aside the calculus for a while, Kurt had taken the book and flipped through the pages looking for something to ask his friend. He found a section with some questions and asked them. Adam answered mostly correctly, so Kurt turned to another chapter and did the same.

After an hour, Adam thanked Kurt and took his book back.

“Nessun problema,” Kurt said. “Ogni scusa è buona per fuggire calcolo per un po 'è il benvenuto.”*

“What?” Chandler asked with his brow wrinkled in confusion.

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Ho detto: Ogni scusa è buona per fuggire calcolo per un po 'è il benvenuto.”*

“Kurt, you’re speaking Italian,” Adam told him and then frowned. “With a better accent than my teacher.”

Kurt’s eyes widened and looked back and forth between his two friends. “Questo non è possibile. Io non so parlare italiano!”*

“I think maybe we should go see Dr. Munoz,” Chandler said. “He’ll know what’s going on.”

Dr. Munoz did know what was going on. Kurt was absorbing information psychically. It was the first manifestation of his gifts. Unfortunately, until Kurt could figure out how to control that gift, he was stuck speaking Italian. But on the plus side, Kurt was able to study for his calculus test without much problem after that. He aced his final, even if the teacher had to get someone to translate his answers.

When Kurt emailed his father to tell him about this latest development, he explained that he was just glad that it appeared so far that his gifts would be psychic rather than physical or kinetic. As he explained to Burt, some of the manifestations he had seen among the older students could, at times, be explosive.

Translation: *No problem. Any excuse to escape calculus for a while is welcome.   
*I said: Any excuse to escape calculus for a while is welcome.   
*That's not possible. I don't know how to speak Italian.

GLEE

“I met my pair,” Adam confided to Chandler and Kurt when he returned from the weekend retreat a couple years later. Every Prime had a pair, a soulmate, who could help ground him or her, helping to control their gifts while also increasing the efficacy of those gifts.

The PCC organized special retreats for those over the age of 20. They met with students from other centers under the auspices of expanding their connections for post-center life, but everyone knew that the primary purpose of the retreats was to help Primes find their pair.

“Congratulations,” Chandler said happily. “Will he come here, or are you leaving us?”

“We haven’t decided yet,” Adam admitted. “He’s at Latham, in Cambridge. It would be nice to go home to England. I could see my family more often. But I really like Marshall. And I’d miss you guys like crazy.”

“Well, you don’t have to make a decision right away, do you?” Kurt asked. “I mean, they won’t press for a decision until after the semester is complete, right?”

“Right,” Adam said. He smiled at his friends. “I thought it would take longer. I thought I would have to go to a bunch of retreats before I found him. But there he was, first time out. And he’s really great. He’s 22, so this was actually his last retreat. He’s been accepted into Cambridge for his post-graduate work, but he said he’d consider something close to here, if I don’t want to leave.”

Kurt frowned. “I can’t imagine that any of the schools around here would be better than Cambridge, at least in the way of prestige. He could go to Harvard or Yale, but those are both a few hours away.”

“I can’t imagine being so far from my pair,” Chandler said. He had found his pair a few months before. He was a few years younger than them and had just arrived at Marshall the previous fall. Kurt envied his friend finding his pair so early, and having years to get to know each other in the safety of Marshall’s walls before having to face the real world.

“It’s only for two years,” Adam said, but it was obvious that he didn’t like the idea of being so far from his pair, either.

“I think maybe you should consider Latham,” Kurt said with a sigh. He hated that Adam would soon be so far from them, but he wanted his friend to be happy. And pairs were less likely to have spikes or other troubles with their gifts. Adam had just recently begun manifesting his gifts and they could be rather explosive at times. He had actually blown up a portion of the library once. “We can all still keep in touch. There’s email and Skype.”

“And this would be a good excuse to get my parents to take me to London,” Chandler said. “I’ve been bugging them to go to England for years, and they always put it off. Now I’ll have more ammunition to get that trip.”

Adam and Kurt laughed at Chandler’s optimism, but they shared resigned looks. They would undoubtedly stay friends, but things would never be the same again.

GLEE

By the time Kurt received his first invitation to attend a retreat, he had already manifested three gifts. That was unusual enough—most Primes only manifested one or two gifts—but his trainers believed that he probably had at least one more gift, since he was only 20. So far, Kurt’s gifts had all been psychic. He could absorb information and knowledge from simply touching an object. It wasn’t limited to books, either. He learned to knit by borrowing the knitting needles of one of the other students. His trainers believed that he was actually tapping into the knowledge of the person who used the object or, in the case of books, the author. Surprisingly, the knowledge didn’t just fade away after a while. It stuck with him permanently. For that reason, Kurt was very careful about what he touched. There were some things he simply didn’t want or need to know.

The second gift that manifested was psychometry, another good reason not to touch things randomly, in Kurt’s opinion, and a good excuse to add gloves as a fashion accessory. When he touched objects, he could sense things about the person who owned or used that object. Mostly it was pretty superficial stuff, but occasionally, if the object was used frequently, it would hold deeper secrets. Kurt wasn’t big on learning other people’s secrets.

The third gift that Kurt had discovered wasn’t technically psychic, since there were plenty of normal people who weren’t Primes who were gifted in the same way. What made him different is the fact that this gift wasn’t something he’d always had. Slowly, over time, Kurt had developed an eidetic memory, the ability to recall images, sounds and words with almost perfect detail.

With those three gifts, school got a lot easier, and Kurt was able to get ahead in his courses and spend more time doing things he liked to do. He took dance and singing lessons. He shopped with Chandler. He designed and sewed his own outfits. He went for long walks, daydreaming about what his pair would be like and when and where they would meet. He wrote long emails to his father and to Adam. And he worried about what other gifts he could possibly develop.

Chandler still hadn’t manifested his first gift, and it wasn’t likely he would get more than one. Adam, by that time, had manifested two gifts, and likely wouldn’t develop any others in the six months he had left before graduating from Latham. Both of Adams gifts were kinetic: telekinesis and pyrokinesis. It explained how he blew up part of the library.

Kurt was looking forward to his first retreat. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to actually go. He ended up getting the flu the night before they were scheduled to fly out. It wasn’t until the spring that Kurt was able to attend his first retreat. He was eagerly looking forward to the experience. Even if he didn’t meet his pair, there were a lot of great seminars he could attend and activities meant to foster connections with other Primes. He already knew everyone at Marshall, and he was looking forward to learning more about the other centers. This retreat had students from Dalton, in Ohio, where Kurt would have attended had they not been full when he was first discovered. There would also be students from Fraser, in Canada, Micelli in Italy, McLaughlin in Scotland, and Hitzig in Germany. (Kurt had absorbed textbooks on German language and culture, as well as brushing up on his Italian, just in case.)

Chandler was ecstatic about going to the retreat. It was his first one as well, and was being held in Quebec City, some place neither Chandler nor Kurt had ever been. There were twelve other students traveling with them and they were all very excited. It wasn’t every day that they got to explore outside of the school and the small New England village where it was located. Most of them only got to explore anything when they went home for the short two-week summer and Christmas breaks. For Kurt that usually meant time in Lima with his dad, stepmother Carole and stepbrother Finn. They weren’t very big on traveling. Chandler’s family, on the other hand, seemed to go to a different place every summer. He had even finally gotten that trip to England the summer before.

The flight was short and Kurt and Chandler were two of the first off the small plane. Then they had to wait for their luggage before they could go through customs. Armed with their passports, they made it past that hurdle and were soon on the shuttle bus that would take them to their hotel.

The hotel was downtown, but only a few blocks from the old city, so they would definitely have a chance to explore. The two were assigned adjoining rooms and Chandler was soon settled in and sitting on Kurt’s bed while the other boy unpacked.

“I wish James could have come,” Chandler sighed. James was Chandler’s pair and it was a rare thing for them to be apart for longer than a single class lately. “I miss him already.”

Kurt shook his head. “What are you going to do when you graduate and he’s still got four years left?”

“I’ve already talked to Dr. Munoz,” Chandler said quietly. “He offered me a job in the administrative offices. Mrs. Delany is set to retire around then and she agreed to stay on for a month to train me and I agreed to stay at least until James graduates.”

Kurt turned to look at his friend. “I’m happy for you if that’s what you want. But I thought you were going to go for your doctorate in history?”

Chandler shrugged. “I still want to do that. But I can do it after James graduates and can come with me. Or I could apply for a distance program."

“Well, I’m not sure I’ll want to delay my education,” Kurt said. “No matter how old my pair is. It takes too long to get through law school as it is. I don’t want to wait even longer. That’s assuming I even meet him before I graduate. He could be five years older and already living his life in the real world.”

“Or he could be here,” Chandler said optimistically. “You never know.”

Kurt nodded and held up an outfit in front of himself as he gazed into the full length mirror. It wouldn’t hurt to look his absolute best, just in case.

GLEE

There were almost 200 students in total at the retreat. Most of the delegations were much larger than Marshall’s. That was mainly due to the fact that Marshall was one of the smallest centers in the world. Most centers could accommodate between 1,000 and 2,000 students. That meant that while there were plenty of opportunities to meet people and get to know them, there were a lot of people that Kurt still hadn’t met by the third day.

That morning, they were all given the choice of staying at the hotel for another day of seminars and classes or going on a walking tour of the old city. Kurt and Chandler had opted for the walking tour. They were told to wait by the fountain in the lobby for the next group, so they joined the few boys who were already there.   
They were all wearing a uniform that Kurt had learned earlier in the week signified that they were from Dalton, one of the last centers to be restricted to a single gender.

“Hi, I’m Chandler, and this is Kurt,” Chandler greeted them all happily.

“I’m Jeff and this is Nick, Thad and Trent,” the blond of the group said with a smile. “Which school are you from?”

“Marshall,” Kurt said. “Though I should have gone to Dalton. I’m from Lima.”

“Really?” Nick asked. “Why didn’t you?”

“There were no openings when I was placed,” Kurt shrugged. “I wasn’t too upset about getting out of Ohio, so I suppose it worked out.”

“Westerville, where Dalton is, is pretty nice,” Thad said. “But I have noticed that some of the more outlying communities tend to be…”

“Close-minded and backward?” Kurt provided.

“Yes, unfortunately,” Thad agreed.

“What’s Marshall like?” Trent asked. 

For the next few minutes, they talked about the similarities and differences between their two schools until the tour guide arrived with another small contingent of female students from Germany.

“Does any of you speak German?” She asked in what seemed like desperation.

Kurt reluctantly raised his hand. “I do.”

The poor girl sighed with relief. “I don’t suppose I could impose upon you to translate for these students? Our translator broke his leg and I’m lucky to have mastered French and English.”

Kurt smiled at her and said, “Il me fera plaisir, mademoiselle.”*

She grinned at him. “You are a man of many talents. German and French?”

“He speaks Italian, Portuguese, Greek and Russian, too,” Chandler provided helpfully. Everyone glanced at Kurt with admiration and he flushed.

“Well, we should probably head out,” the woman said. “I’m Charlene and I’ll be your guide as we tour Old Quebec City.”

Just then, another Dalton student came rushing up to the group. “Sorry I’m late!”

“No problem,” Charlene said with a smile. “We were just getting started.”

They headed out of the hotel, and Kurt kept a running translation for the half dozen German students, but his attention was on the late Dalton boy. He was probably one of the most handsome men Kurt had ever before seen in real life. He wasn’t overly fond of the way the boy styled his hair—definitely too much gel—but his hazel eyes were fathomless and sparkled with mischief and humor. Plus, he had an ass to die for.

Kurt wasn’t the only one stealing glances. The unknown Dalton boy kept staring back, even as he listened to Charlene or joked with his friends. They walked from downtown up to the Citadel, a military base that was built on the highest part of the city, overlooking the St. Lawrence River far below. There, they had to be escorted by one of the Citadel guides because the fort was actually a working military base. After they left the Citadel, they walked down the hill and through one of the gates that marked the old city. 

When they reached the Le Chateau Frontenac, they took the funicular down to the lower portion of the city. The view of the lower city and river was beautiful, but Kurt’s eyes were continually drawn to the boy with the gelled hair.

It wasn’t until they stopped for lunch, back at the Chateau, that Kurt actually had the opportunity to talk to the young man. Chandler had spent much of the tour so far with the Dalton boys, since Kurt was preoccupied with translating, and so Kurt ended up sitting with those boys.

“Kurt, you didn’t get the chance to meet Blaine before,” Chandler said. “He’s been telling me all about the Warblers. Dalton actually has an acapella show choir!” Chandler turned back to the Dalton boys. “We tried to get a show choir started at Marshall, but we just couldn’t get enough interest generated. So mostly, Adam, Kurt and I would sing whenever we got the chance. Of course Adam’s in England now, so he can’t sing with us anymore.”

Kurt smiled at Chandler’s enthusiasm. “It’s nice to finally meet you Blaine.”

“And you, Kurt,” Blaine said with a smile as he held out his hand to shake.

The moment Kurt’s hand met Blaine’s the rest of the world just seemed to disappear and he knew. This was the man he was meant to spend his life with. This was his pair. Kurt’s eyes met Blaine’s and he got lost in their endless depths.

“Kurt? Kurt?” Chandler’s voice finally cut through the haze of attraction and realization that had caught the two men in its grip.

Kurt shook himself and turned to face Chandler, but he didn’t let go of Blaine’s hand. “He’s…”

Chandler grinned. “Your pair? That’s awesome!”

Soon the rest of their group was congratulating them, but Kurt and Blaine only had eyes for each other as they accepted the well-wishes of their friends. Lunch seemed to pass by in a blur and Kurt barely recalled a thing that was said. When Charlene finally attempted to round the tour group together again, Kurt held back.

“Um… I think…”

“Kurt and Blaine won’t be continuing the tour,” Thad told the woman diplomatically. “Something has come up.”

“Oh no!” Charlene cried. “What am I supposed to do with the German girls?”

“Point and smile?” Jeff offered sheepishly.

Charlene sighed and led the group away from the newly matched pair. Only when they were alone did Blaine turn to Kurt. “So… should we go back to the hotel? Or would you prefer to go somewhere else?”

“I have no idea,” Kurt said. “I’m not even sure I remember how to get back to the hotel.”

Blaine chuckled. “Good thing I have my phone, then. Google maps will save the day.”

They set out, following the directions on Google maps. For the first few minutes, they were both silent, but once they began to talk, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Kurt easily shared his gifts with his pair, something that wasn’t normally discussed with anyone but the closest friends or family members.

“Before I tested positive, I wanted to either go into fashion or become a Broadway star,” Kurt admitted. “And I still love to design my own clothes and I love to sing and dance, but now… now I feel like there’s more that I was meant to do with my gifts.”

“Like what?” Blaine wondered.

“Well, I want to go to law school but after that, who knows,” Kurt said. “I might practice law or go into politics or maybe I'll get a JD and teach. I want to do something to influence the future for other Primes.”

“Ambitious,” Blaine said.

Kurt shrugged. “I figure there must be a reason that my gifts make it so easy for me to learn things. My trainers think I’ll probably develop one or two more gifts before I graduate, so I might find something else that fits better. I still have two years to decide.”

“I still have no idea what I want to do,” Blaine admitted. “But I have a year more than you before I graduate.”

“What are your gifts?” Kurt asked. “Or have they manifested yet?”

“I’ve manifested two gifts so far,” Blaine said. “And my trainers think there will probably be two more before I’m finished. I’ve almost mastered both my empathic abilities and telepathy. I’ve actually considered going into psychology. But I’ve also thought about med school.”

“Not performing?” Kurt asked. “I mean, from everything you and your friends said, I got the impression that you are a great performer.”

“I love music,” Blaine admitted. “And I would love to perform for a living, but… it’s just not practical.”

Kurt stopped and used their clasped hands to pull Blaine to a stop as well. “Who says you have to be practical?”

“My father,” Blaine admitted ruefully. “I hate to disappoint him. It’s bad enough that I’m gay and a Prime… neither of which does he consider a good thing… but add a useless occupation to the list and I might as well ask him to disown me.”

Kurt sighed. “That sucks. But Blaine, you and I both know that performing isn’t a useless occupation. It brings happiness to people and that’s priceless in my opinion. Don’t let your father abuse your empathy. You need to do what will make you happy."

Blaine stared wide eyed at Kurt and then let a smile cross his face. “I… I hardly know you, but I think I just fell in love.”

Kurt smiled and leaned forward to kiss his pair. “I think I started falling in love with you the minute I saw you.”

Translation: *It would be my pleasure, miss.

GLEE

“There are only two months before the summer term starts,” Blaine said. “We need to decide if we’re going to transfer to be together.”

It was the last night of the retreat and Kurt was carefully packing his wardrobe while Blaine sat on his bed and watched. They had spent every minute of the last four days together, other than to sleep, and the thought of being apart for two months seemed intolerable.

Kurt bit his lip. He had always said that he wouldn’t change schools for his pair, but Blaine had so much more to lose by changing schools. Dalton had the best music program of any of the centers; it ranked up there with Juilliard, Peabody and the New England Music Conservatory. Then again, Kurt would have to choose a law school soon, and they might be forced to split up for a year or more anyway.

“I just don’t know,” Kurt sighed as he put aside his packing and joined Blaine on the bed. “I can certainly transfer now, but then what happens when I graduate? I really don’t think I want to go to Ohio State for law school.”

“I don't know," Blaine admitted. "Have you looked into which law schools offer distance programs for Primes? You said that you are pretty much finished with the requirements for your undergrad degree. If you found the right program, maybe you could be finishing your law degree when I graduate from Dalton."

Kurt's eyes went wide. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"You should talk with your counselor when you get back," Blaine said. "Maybe she'll be able to offer something we haven't thought of yet."

"We'll both have to talk to our counselors when we get back," Kurt reminded Blaine. "We have to Register our pairing with the PCC."

Blaine nodded and kissed Kurt. "Have I told you recently how happy I am to have you as my pair?"

"Not for a few hours," Kurt said with a smile. And then he was too busy kissing Blaine to talk or pack or even think.

GLEE

"I found him, Dad," Kurt told his father over Skype the day after he got back to Marshall. "He's perfect and perfect for me. I just know you're going to love him."

Burt wasn't shocked by the news that his son had finally met his pair. He knew from Kurt that those retreats were more about looking for a pair than anything else. But still, he wasn't as prepared to hear that his son had found his soul mate as he thought he would be.

"That's... Um... Great," Burt finally managed to choke out. "Who is he? Where's he go to school? When do I get to meet him?"

And so Kurt began to inform his father all about Blaine Anderson for the next hour.

Finally, Burt had to interrupt Kurt's gushing. "Kiddo, I'm glad he seems like a good kid. But there's a lot you two have to think about now, isn't there? Like where you're going to finish your schooling?"

"I talked to Ms. Adams today," Kurt said. "And I think I'm going to transfer to Dalton. I've pretty much taken all the courses I need for graduation, so Blaine suggested and Ms. Adams agreed that it was a good idea for me to enroll in a distance program and start my law school courses."

"Explain to me why you can't just graduate if you're already done with the classes," Burt said.

"Because my gifts haven't finished manifesting," Kurt said. "I've still got a couple years for that. Until they do and I can control them, it isn't safe for me to be away from a center for extended periods. A couple weeks really is the maximum."

Burt sighed. "Yeah, okay. I get it. So where is this Dalton place? Not in California, is it?"

Kurt laughed. "That's the best part. It's in Ohio. I can come home some weekends if I'm there. And you'll be able to meet Blaine."

"I like the sound of you being closer to home," Burt admitted. "We'll see how the meeting of the boyfriend part goes."

GLEE

Kurt's final two months at Marshall were both interminably long and entirely too short. On the one hand, he missed Blaine terribly. On the other hand, there was just so much to accomplish in a few short weeks. But by the time finals were completed and he left for summer break, Kurt's suite was packed and ready to be shipped to Dalton, he had applied to several law schools and he had finished all of his requirements for his undergraduate degree.

During that time, Kurt and Blaine talked and texted every day. They made plans to see each other over break. Blaine's family didn't live far from either Westerville or Lima, so it wouldn't take much to organize a few visits. 

That was how Blaine ended up at the Hudson-Hummel house for Friday night dinner. Burt was on his best behavior, having received warnings from both Kurt and Carole ahead of time, but there was no stopping Finn from putting his foot in his mouth. 

"So what kind of superpowers do you have?" Finn asked around a mouth filled with food. "'Cause Kurt's are kind of lame."

"Finn!" Both Burt and Carole scolded the young adult who really should know better by now.

"It's impolite to ask a Prime's gifts," Kurt calmly informed his stepbrother even as he rolled his eyes.

"And it's really rude to insult anyone's gifts," Carole told him.

Finn had the decency to look abashed. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Blaine assured him. "I could tell you didn't mean anything by your question. I'm an empath. My other gift, at least so far, is telepathy."

Finn frowned. "So you just know what I'm feeling? And you can read my mind, too?"

Blaine nodded. "But I have to concentrate to do it. Plus, I'd never do that without permission."

"It's actually pretty cool because he can send thoughts to people," Kurt told his brother. 

"Really?" Finn asked with excitement. "Send me something." Almost as soon as he said it, Finn's face scrunched up weirdly. "That's so cool."

"What did he send?" Burt wanted to know.

"He asked what gifts I would want if I was a Prime," Finn told him. "I think I'd want super strength or speed or something like that."

"So something from one of your comic books," Kurt said dryly. 

"One of the boys in my year manifested super strength," Blaine said. "For months, he broke pretty much everything he touched. It's not easy learning to control powers like that."

"My friend Adam kept lighting things on fire for a while," Kurt told them. "It wasn't fun or cool."

Finn frowned thoughtfully. "I guess that's why they make you guys go to the special school, Huh?"

GLEE

Finn obviously liked Blaine and Blaine was okay with the taller man's fumbling attempts to befriend him. Burt was a little harder to sway, but he seemed to come around after Blaine held his own in a debate about Ohio State's chances at a national championship that year.


	6. Vampire Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Puck rescues Blaine, a Breeder, from abuse and takes him Kurt, the Vampire Prince

Kurt Hummel was spoiled. Everyone, including Kurt knew that . There was little to nothing that his father, Burt Hummel, wouldn't give him. Most people thought it was simply the result of being born the son of the King of Vampires. Those who knew the two men better knew that it was more so because Elizabeth Hummel, nee Chambers, had died when Kurt was still so very young, leaving the two vampires to grieve her passing.

While Burt Hummel seemingly gave his son anything and everything he could ever want, he couldn't give him the one thing that they both wanted more than anything: his mother.

And so Kurt was spoiled. If he asked for a new car, Burt bought him the newest and best car available. If Kurt wanted a party, Kurt had the biggest party that Lima Ohio had ever seen. The only thing Burt protested was the collection of tiaras that Kurt kept hidden in his hope chest. Then again, despite frequent threats to throw the whole lot out, he had never actually done so and often pretended not to know when the bill from Ebay came in with another tiara listed.

Kurt, you see, was not only a vampire; he was a gay vampire. Not only was he a gay vampire, but he was a flamboyantly, obviously gay vampire. 

There were those among the vampire nations who sneered at Burt's young heir. There were those who believed that a man such as Kurt could never effectively lead his people. But Burt Hummel was such a strong leader that few people voiced those thoughts aloud. 

And Kurt, despite his fantasies of one day starring on Broadway or starting up his own fashion house, knew where his responsibilities lay. He spent hours each weekend working beside his father, learning the skills he would need to lead his people. And so he sat by his father's side while he listened to the plights of their people and met with human politicians and negotiated with the kings of the other vampire nations.

During the week, Kurt went to school each day. Burt Hummel felt it was important that Kurt learn about the culture and customs of the humans, so it was a public school at which Kurt received his formal education. As with most public schools, there were a few vampires and a lot of humans. Of course, all of the vampires knew who Kurt was, and went out of their way to befriend him.

Though Lima Ohio was the seat of power for the North American Vampire Nation, shockingly few people in that small midwestern town had any true understanding of vampires, their culture, or their powers. Most knew only the rumors and myths perpetuated by a society obsessed by vampire lore.

Kurt was a freshman in high school the first time a bully attempted to stake him. He quickly learned that stakes do little more than annoy a powerful vampire like Kurt. It might actually kill a weaker vampire, but only if they were actually staked through the heart and weren't able to heal themselves or get to a healer in time. Kurt had been trained from infancy how to heal himself and the gaping hole in his chest was gone before the bullying jock could do more than pull the stake back.

Of course, that student had run, but he couldn't hide. The vampire-human treaty that was signed as part of Paris Peace Conference after World War II, as well as the subsequent agreements with the US, Canada and Mexico, stated that vampires who are attacked by humans have the right to punish said human under the laws of the vampire nation. As the prince of the vampire nation, Kurt was completely within his rights to have the boy executed without trial. Instead, Kurt, with his father's approval, had called for a full trial before a vampire tribunal. The boy had been found guilty and was sentenced to three years in prison.

The bullies seemed to back off for a while after that. But it appeared that they didn't have a very long memory, because less than a year later, two other human boys attacked Kurt and attempted to stake him. Rather than allowing them to actually stake him this time--after all, he was particularly fond of the sweater he was wearing that day and didn't want it ruined--he moved out of the way at the last second. Azimio staked his best friend, Karofsky, instead of Kurt. Thankfully, Karofsky wasn't killed, but again the bullies faced a trial and were sentenced to time in prison.

After that second attack, Kurt's reputation around the school improved drastically. Yes, he was still the weird gay vampire who liked to wear strange clothes--at least strange to the uneducated hicks who inhabited Lima--but he was also dangerous and powerful. And so the next three years of Kurt's high school career were much more tolerable.

That wasn't to say that Kurt didn't have his bad days. He had plenty of those. And there was always an overabundance of drama in the glee club. His rivalry with Rachel Berry over solos was legendary. And his short-lived crush on Finn Hudson was humiliating. But, in all, Kurt loved to perform and he had friends, both human and vampire, in glee club that he felt like he could rely upon if things got rough.

And then graduation came and Kurt was thrilled at the prospect of getting out of Lima, out of Ohio, even if it was only for a few years while he went to college. But before he could actually leave town, his father was struck down by illness.

It was another myth of the humans that vampires couldn't get sick. They certainly weren't as prone to illness as humans, and the few things that could make them ill rarely killed them, but there were a handful of illnesses that could damage a vampire, even in the prime of health.

Farrago disease was one of the few diseases that severely affected vampires. It attacked the vampire's mind and, if left untreated, a vampire could go completely and irrevocably mad in days. Thankfully, as the king, Burt had access to the very best vampire medicine and healers on the continent. Unfortunately, the best way to treat Farrago was to put the sufferer into an induced coma until the disease had run it's course. And so Burt Hummel was put into a coma which could last anywhere from one to ten years, and only after he woke would they be able to tell if Burt had suffered any permanent damage. 

Kurt spent the first week beside his father's bed, holding his hand and hoping that the disease would pass miraculously quickly. After that week, however, he brushed himself off, put on his royal upbringing like a robe, and faced the world. Somebody had to rule the most powerful nation of vampires.

GLEE

Kurt sat on the throne that should have been occupied by his father and looked over the audience chamber. There were numerous advisors and his security detail, yet the room was still mostly empty. It was too vast and ornate for the modern times in which they found themselves. And the whole rigamarole of having their subjects come in person to present their requests seemed outdated and unnecessary to him as well. What was the point of living in this modern age if they couldn't make good use of the technology available?

As Kurt considered what steps he could take to modernize this centuries old custom, Cliff, one of his father's most trusted advisors and the Chief Courtier of the Royal Court of Hummel, announced the arrival of the next subject.

Kurt almost laughed when he saw Puck walk into the room, looking a bit awestruck by the palace's luxury. They had been friends in glee club, but Kurt had rarely invited his friends to the palace. Only Tina, in fact, had been to the palace.

"Nice digs, Porcelain," Puck said and was immediately glared at by dozens of advisors and courtiers for his disrespectful address of the prince. The guards seemed to be having difficulty holding in their laughter.

"Thank you Noah," Kurt said haughtily. "What can I do for you?"

Puck shrugged. "Not what you can do for me, really." He paused and looked around at all the people watching and listening. "Can't we go somewhere that everyone and their brother isn't listening?"

Kurt glanced at Cliff, who nodded. Puck was the last audience scheduled for the day. "Sure."

Kurt got up from the throne and led the way out of the audience chambers and to his private office a couple doors down the back hall. Cliff and James, Kurt's newly assigned personal bodyguard, followed them into the room and shut the door behind them.

"Not exactly alone, but it's better, I guess," Puck said.

"What did you need, Puck?" Kurt asked again as he took his seat at his desk. "Running a nation is pretty time consuming work."

"I get that," Puck nodded. "Like I said, I'm not really here for me. There's this human. I thought maybe you could take him."

Kurt blinked. "You had better not have stolen some poor human from his family to offer as a pet. There are strict rules against that sort of thing these days, and you know it."

"Dude!" Puck cried in offense. "I don't steal people! And most humans would suck as pets. Too mouthy."

Kurt rolled his eyes. Despite Puck's protests, Kurt wouldn't put something like that past the impulsive vampire. "So who is this human and what's his story?"

"I think I should let him tell it," Puck shrugged. "But I'll give you the summary. He's a breeder. His family thinks that's like scum of the earth. His father beat him up and then tossed him, literally, from their house. He's got nothing but the clothes on his back and nowhere to go."

"And how did you get involved?" Kurt wondered.

"I was cleaning the pool next door when I heard the commotion," Puck said. "So I helped him out. He's a nice guy, Kurt. He doesn't deserve the shit his parents put him through."

Kurt sighed and nodded. "Where is he?"

"I left him in the car," Puck said. "Didn't really know the etiquette for brining humans into the palace."

Kurt glanced at James who left the office briefly to send someone to fetch the human.

"So, what will you do with him?" Puck asked. "I mean, I know we aren't allowed to keep human pets and all that, but this guy comes from a good family and has no street smarts at all. He'll get eaten alive on his own."

"I have no idea," Kurt sighed. "I suppose I could start a harem," he joked. No one laughed. Instead the room fell into a slightly uncomfortable silence.

Breeders were once revered in vampire society, since there was a time when vampires could not reproduce the way humans did. Their only means of reproduction was to turn a human, which caused innumerable issues, since turned vampires had serious difficulties with control and took centuries to mature to full strength. And so, vampires relied upon breeders.

Breeders were human and could be either male or female. The mark of a breeder was in their scent and in their skin. When a breeder reached the prime breeding age--not puberty, but when they were both physically and emotionally mature enough to carry and raise a child--a small mark appeared on the back of their neck. It was the shape of a pentagram, and that mark had often led to breeders being hunted as witches in centuries past.

Of course, vampires had not treated breeders much better. Kurt's reference to a harem wasn't far from the mark. Often vampires from royal houses actually kept a stable of breeders to continue their line. The breeders were treated well, but they were, in fact, little more than sex slaves. Of course, they were treated much better than the stables of humans that vampire royals had once kept as feeding sources.

In the early part of the 20th century, vampire healers had discovered ways for vampires to reproduce without the aid of breeders. Kurt's own mother had gone through the rigorous regimen of drugs required for reproduction. Of course, there were many healers that proclaimed that it was this regimen that had weakened her enough that she succumbed to the simple childhood illness that had killed her. Most vampires would have shaken off the disease, but she had never quite recovered from giving birth and even six years later was overcome from the normally simple malady.

Kurt's thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the office door. James went to check and soon turned to Kurt. "Your Highness, Blaine Anderson is here."

Kurt nodded and James opened the door to reveal a bewildered looking young man, about Kurt and Puck's age, perhaps a year younger. His hair was in disarray and his clothes were torn and dirty, though they were once obviously of high quality. There were bruises on his face and arms, and likely other places that Kurt could not see. Yet, in spite of all of this, Kurt could see that this was a beautiful boy. Even at his lowest, he had a small smile for Kurt and his eyes shone with hope and optimism. 

"Y-your Highness," Blaine said a little timidly. He was unsteady on his feet and looked unsure of what he should say or do.

"Please, have a seat," Kurt offered and Blaine seemed to sink into the chair beside Puck. "Puck told me a little bit of your situation, but I'd like to hear it from you."

Blaine nodded and then paused to gather his thoughts. "My family has never been very close. My parents were raised in a manner that was devoid of intimacy or affection of any kind. And they in turn raised my brother an I in the same manner. 

"But I was never... like them," Blaine continued. "I craved attention and affection. And when I couldn't find those things at home, I found other means of getting them, mostly from friends and their families.

"When I was fourteen, I came out to my parents," Blaine said. "I told them I was gay. They weren't pleased, but their response was to ignore me and my sexuality. I could handle that. But when I was beaten up at school for being gay, to save face with the neighbors, they sent me to boarding school."

"Bastards," Puck muttered. 

"I was okay with that," Blaine told Kurt and Puck. "I got to really be myself there. I made some very good friends and I loved it there. I was happy, possibly for the first time in my life."

"What happened?" Kurt encouraged.

"I got the mark of a breeder this spring," Blaine said. "And most of my friends just took it in stride. I figured it wasn't a big deal. But then I went home for summer break. My parents were traveling the first few weeks of summer, which isn't unusual, and when they got home, they were rarely around so it wasn't until yesterday that they saw the mark.

"Mom saw it first," Blaine said quietly. "And she... she screamed like she had seen a monster. I didn't know what was wrong, so I tried to help her. But when I reached out to her, she backed away and looked at me like I was... She said I'm not her son."

Blaine paused to swipe at a tear that had escaped. "My father came in to see what was going on and my mother just pointed at me. It took a few minutes for him to work out what was upsetting her, but once he did... well, it was scary. I'd never seen my father so angry. He was shouting and hitting me and... Everything is sort of a blur. But I got the gist. They hate me because of a stupid accident of genetics. 

"My father threw me out of the house," Blaine said. "He said he never wanted to see my face again. That's when Puck found me. He brought me to his house for last night and helped me clean up."

"I'd totally keep him," Puck said. "But my ma has a hard enough time with just me and Sarah. I try to help out, but there's only three bedrooms and no way we can afford an extra mouth long term."

Kurt nodded. He knew enough about Puck's home life to know that he was telling the truth about that. "Blaine, what do you want to happen?"

Blaine just shook his head. "I don't know. I'm 18, so I don't legally need anyone to look out for me. But I still have a year of school left. There's no way my parents will pay for Dalton, now, though. I guess I'll have to get a job and try and pass my GED."

"No," Kurt said decisively. "I'm not going to let you do that. You're going to stay here at the palace for the rest of the summer. Then, when school starts back, you'll go to Dalton. You can board there again if you want, or you can live here while you finish school. And if you don't want to go to Dalton, we can look at other options. But you aren't giving up your education just because your parents are too stupid and ignorant to recognize how special you are."

"I'm not special," Blaine sighed.

"You are totally special," Puck argued. "You're like the most polite guy I've ever met, and I know Hummel here."

Kurt smirked at that, but it was Cliff who spoke up next, drawing everyone's attention to him where he had been standing behind Kurt. "Breeders are quite rare and quite special to the vampire nations. The mark on your neck served as protection from all vampires back in the days before the treaties with humans. Even today, not even a rogue vampire will bite the neck of one wearing that mark."

"But breeders aren't needed anymore," Blaine said. He had obviously been educated on vampire culture and history a lot better than the students of McKinley. "With the advent of medicines to aid in reproduction, vampires don't need breeders the way they once did."

"That's not true," Kurt said quietly. "There are still those of us who do not have the option of mating with a female vampire."

Blaine blinked at the young royal. "You mean gay men."

"Yes," Kurt said. "For us, a male breeder is still the only option for reproduction. As the heir to the throne, I will have to reproduce someday or our line will die out."

Blaine sat back in his chair and eyed both Kurt and Cliff warily. "Are you saying you'd like to keep me around to produce heirs with you someday?"

Kurt shook his head. "Nothing so cut and dried. We are simply saying why protecting a gay male breeder is important to us. If you stay, there will be no demands of that nature. That does't mean that I wouldn't like the opportunity to see if we could be compatible as mates."

"He's not going to rape you and lock you up in some tower until you produce his heir," Puck said with a frown. "Kurt can be bitchy, but he's a decent dude. I wouldn't have brought you here otherwise."

Blaine shook his head. "I'm sorry if I've offended you. But I really don't know any of you. I don't know much more about vampires than what they teach in history classes at Dalton. But I don't think I have any choice right now but to trust that you're telling the truth."

"We'll earn your trust in time," Kurt said. "You've been through a lot in a very short time. Cliff, can you have a steward prepare the suite of rooms across the hall from mine. Also, have my valet find suitable clothes for Blaine until we can do a little shopping. James, we'll be making a shopping excursion tomorrow morning, so make the necessary arrangements. Puck, you are more than welcome to come back and visit, but for now, I'd like to have the palace healers take a look at Blaine and give him some time to rest and settle in."

With Kurt's pronouncement, everyone was sent into a flurry of activity. Kurt made Blaine sit still while he called the healers to come to them. James, Cliff and Puck were all dismissed to carry out their tasks, or head home in Puck's case. For the next several minutes, Kurt and Blaine were alone in the office.

"If it isn't too rude to say so, you really aren't much like I imagined you would be when Puck said he was taking me to meet the vampire prince," Blaine said quietly.

"What did you imagine?" Kurt asked.

Blaine smiled shyly at him. "Well, I suppose I was expecting a Disney prince. Either that or someone more like the most arrogant guys at Dalton."

Kurt chuckled. "I've been told that I'm very spoiled. Does that fit your expectations better?"

"It would if I actually believed it," Blaine said. "You... you're so much more than I thought you would be. I know I said I can't trust you yet, but there's a large part of me that wants to trust you. I don't think I've ever had anyone offer to do something for me, especially something this big, without expecting something in return. That's not selfish or spoiled, in my book."


	7. Primal Politics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt is a Prime, a person with special gifts, who is on the road to becoming President when he meets his mate, Blaine. This story mentions Mpreg, and was intended to go there eventually.

At first glance, anyone could see that Kurt Hummel was a Prime. Unlike many Primes, he didn't display any obvious outward signs, but anyone who looked as fey and otherworldly as him could be nothing else. He was tall and willowy with a complexion as smooth and pale as cream. But it was his eyes that truly gave him away. He had the most intense blue-green eyes, unnaturally bright eyes. And there was no way that those eyes could be found in anyone but a Prime.

Kurt Hummel hated the fact that he was unable to hide what he was. It was hard enough growing up in a small town in Ohio being different. He'd been called "Shifter" and "Fag" in equal measures and with equal hatred in the voices of his peers. 

He was grateful, in some ways, that the law protected people like him. The bullying might have been a lot worse if the PCC--the Prime Cooperative Council--hadn't pushed through legislation decades before to protect Primes and then made sure that local governments and schools actually enforced those laws. Kurt was protected. And the first and only time a bully had laid a hand on him, the PCC had sent a representative that ensured that not only was the perpetrator expelled, but faced criminal charges. But that protection did not stop his peers from shunning him.

Kurt had known what he was since he was just a young boy. It was kind of obvious the first time he had shifted into his primary animal form. He'd only been two at the time and hadn't really understood the significance of what he had done. But his parents had and they had quickly contacted the PCC to register him and find out what they could do to help Kurt control and strengthen his gifts.

That had led to weekly trips to a Prime Educational Center each Saturday. And it had led to summers spent at a Prime summer camp. Both places were designed to help parents and Primes learn to deal with the unique gifts that came with being a Prime. 

Not only were Primes gifted with the ability to shift their form, they almost always had other gifts as well. Every Prime could shift into at least their primary animal form. The stronger the Prime, the more forms they could master. Kurt had mastered four forms before he was 18. There were only a dozen or so Primes in the country who had mastered four or more forms.

Kurt's other gifts had begun to manifest when he was still in kindergarten. He had an eidetic memory, could learn just about anything from touching a book or object, could persuade others to his point of view with the power of his voice, and could read people's thoughts or memories just from a single touch. He wore gloves, long sleeves and long pants at all times to prevent accidental touches after that last gift had developed in the fifth grade. That was the same year that Kurt's mother died and Burt Hummel couldn't be sure how much of his avoidance of human contact was a result of the gift and how much was because of losing his mom, but there didn't seem to be a good reason to fight his son on the subject, so he let it go.

Despite living in a small town in Ohio, the PCC was a constant presence in Kurt's life. They enabled him to move up through school grades as he completed the work, rather than waiting for arbitrary school years to end. He was only ten when he started high school and twelve when he graduated. 

Because Kurt was so young when he graduated from high school, Burt Hummel insisted that if Kurt wanted to start college, he would have to attend Ohio State Lima. They didn't offer a lot of majors, but by the time Kurt turned 16, he had enough credits for degrees in Biology, English, Business and Psychology. And for his last two years of college, Burt loosened up and allowed Kurt to travel to Columbus, where Kurt earned degrees in Math and Physics as well. So he graduated from college at 18 with six degrees.

When the time came for Kurt to decide what he wanted to do next, graduate school seemed like the obvious choice. Burt wasn't happy that Kurt wanted to go to school away from home, but he had always known that the day would come when Kurt flew the nest, so he sighed and helped him sort through the dozens of offers that were sent to Kurt from some of the best universities in the world.

"Cambridge and Oxford are out," Kurt said decisively as his entire family, including his stepmother and stepbrother, sat around the dinner table one evening. "I don't want to live in England. At least not now. Maybe someday."

"I think you should consider which school offers the most programs that you're interested in," Carole said. "You don't want to limit yourself."

"I'm most interested in math and physics," Kurt admitted. "But I haven't completely ruled out business or medicine. Or even law."

"I think your best option, in that case would be one of the Ivy Leagues," Burt said. "MIT and CalTech are great with the sciences, but not great with law or business."

"Actually, MIT has a top ranked business program," Kurt said. "But they don't have law. Harvard, Stanford, Columbia, NYU, Duke and Cornell are all in my top picks. Carnegie Mellon is still in there if I don't do medicine and MIT if I choose to skip the law degree."

"I suppose it comes down to which school you prefer since the offers are all pretty generous," Burt said.

"It's not fair that you get all those cool powers that help you learn," Finn sighed. "These schools are paying for you to go there. I barely got a partial football scholarship to Wright State."

"At least you got that," Carole muttered. "With your grades, you were lucky anyone accepted you."

"And I'll have you know that while I can learn facts pretty easily, my powers have nothing to do with my ability to comprehend and use those facts in ways that most can't," Kurt huffed. "Logic and reason are not gifts. They are hard earned skills. That's why these schools want me."

The talk turned to other topics after that to preserve the peace. Though the boys had been brothers for more than two years, they still had difficulty relating to each other at times. They were just so different. Plus, Finn had spent too much time listening to the prejudices of other jocks and still had a tough time getting past Kurt's sexuality and status as a Prime.

It took a couple more weeks after that discussion for Kurt to finally make his choice. Burt really wasn't surprised when Kurt chose Columbia; he had expected that it would be that or NYU. Kurt had always dreamed of living in New York. Not only would he face fewer bigots in the city, but there were more Primes there than anywhere else in the world, besides London, Tokyo and Cairo.

Kurt settled into life at Columbia a lot easier than he had ever expected he would. He took as many courses as he could cram into his schedule, worked several hours each week for a math professor--his primary doctoral goal on paper--worked on research projects as the opportunities arose and joined a Prime community group where he made friends with other Primes.

For the next three years, that was Kurt's life. The fourth year was spent researching and writing his three doctoral theses in math, business and law. After he was finished, Kurt was again faced with a decision. What to do now? He could teach, but he hadn't really enjoyed being a TA and doubted he would like teaching any better. He could practice law, but that didn't sound any more appealing. He could go into business, but doing what? He had a lot of education, and no practical experience.

And so, as he often did when he wasn't sure what to do, he turned to the PCC. Kurt went to the Prime center in Manhattan and spoke with one of the career counselors there. Unlike career counselors at colleges or high schools, the PCC counselors did more than just find out your skills and interests and make suggestions about what would be a good fit. The PCC career counselors used information in the PCC database to help make connections and introductions that could actually be useful in finding the right job or career.

In this case, Kurt's interview led to a meeting with Jason Williams. Jason was a Prime who had similar gifts to Kurt and had made a fortune in the stock market. Jason offered Kurt a job in his brokerage and basically mentored Kurt. He showed him how to turn a few dollars into a fortune. 

After two years of that, Kurt had both a sizable fortune and the ability to continue increasing that fortune. But he wasn't happy. And so he sought out other options. He spent a year writing for a fashion magazine run by another Prime. He spent a year working with a think tank that was examining ways to improve the economy. 

And then Kurt was approached by the PCC.

GLEE

Though Kurt had spent his life in and around PCC programs, he didn't know much about the actual organization beyond the services that they offered Primes. He had never thought much about who ran the organization or how they funded all of the programs that they offered. He had never thought about how it had come to hold such power politically and economically on the world stage.

But when a letter arrived at Kurt's door by messenger, Kurt began to consider those questions. The President of the East Coast Regional PCC office wrote to him personally and invited him to a meeting. Kurt, having benefitted from the PCC throughout his life, felt obliged to at least hear what the woman had to say.

Kurt learned a lot about the organization that day. He learned that the PCC had regional offices all over the world and that they were headquartered in London. He learned that there was a branch office in Washington DC that lobbied for Prime legislation. He learned that many of the top people in business, politics, the media, the entertainment industry, and every other area of influence were Primes and used their gifts to influence their world in positive ways not only for Primes, but for everyone. 

And he also learned that the PCC wanted him to work with them. They wanted his mind. They wanted him working on how to improve the living conditions for Primes. Not all Primes were blessed with loving families who sought out the PCC for help raising their special child. And Kurt's experience being bullied, his education and logic, his ability to speak numerous languages--he was up to ten he could speak fluently by that time--all meant that Kurt was highly sought by the PCC.

"I think that if we work with you and you are careful and smart, you could be president someday," Janna Welsh told Kurt over lunch at an upscale restaurant. "You're smart, personable, have a blue collar background, have no skeletons in your closet, and have already begun making the right connections. With the PCC's support, we could get you there within the next decade."

Kurt's face must have shown his skepticism as he told her, "I'm gay. Not only am I gay, I've been out since I was 12. Plus I'm a prime. There is no way that middle America is going to elect a gay Prime president."

"That's where you're wrong," Janna told him. "Leave how we get you elected up to us. The question is, are you interested?"

"Of course," Kurt told her and then took a long sip of his wine. "So, what's the first step?"

"The first step is getting you some experience in international diplomacy," Janna said. "There's a posting at the UN that's about to open up. You would be an assistant to the US representative. You're facility with languages will be a huge asset there. In two years, we'll get you on the ballot for Congress as a representative from New York."

GLEE

Kurt had a very long talk with his father about the offer before Kurt decided to accept. There were a lot of questions about how much control the PCC would try to wield over him in return for getting him elected. But then again, Kurt hadn't yet seen anything that the PCC supported that he wouldn't support himself. They were proponents for the environment, for energy conservation, for equal rights, for marriage equality, for education, for ethical business practices... just about anything that Kurt believed in, they supported in some way.

And so, Kurt spent two years working at the UN learning the ropes of international politics and by the time he was 27 years old, he was on the ballot to become New York's representative in Congress. He spent a lot of time meeting and networking with Primes in positions of power and influence. He learned a lot about the PCC in that time as well.

And through it all, Kurt was never asked to deny his sexuality. In fact, his campaign manager made a point of letting it be known right from the beginning. Kurt didn't have to bring a girl to political fund raisers. From the very start, he attended all events with Adam, a friend and sometimes lover from back in his days at Columbia. There were questions about their relationship, but both men simply smiled and said that they were just friends. 

A few months later, Kurt was elected by a huge margin.

GLEE

When Kurt arrived in Washington, he was shocked at the differences between that city and New York. He didn't hate it, but it wasn't nearly as comfortable. Then again,he was only required to be there for about half of the year. The rest of the year, he could be back in his apartment in Manhattan.

It was during a break in congress during his second term that Kurt's life changed. He was back in New York for a few weeks, attending a few charity galas and doing a little political wrangling, when he decided to take a break and head down to the Prime Center just to stop in and see how things were going. Janna had recently relocated to the London office, as the Vice President representing the Americas, and Kurt wanted to meet her replacement.

He hadn't counted on literally running into the most beautiful Prime he had ever seen as he stepped onto the elevator. The man's eyes positively glowed with a warm amber light. 

"I'm so sorry!" the younger man gushed as he picked up the stack of papers he had dropped. "I really should look where I'm going!"

"It's no problem," Kurt told him, though his eyes seemed stuck on the younger man.

"Oh my god! You're Kurt Hummel!" the man said with wide eyes as he recognized Kurt. "You... I... Wow."

Kurt had to smile at the beautiful young man. "I am. And you are?"

The man shifted his stacks of papers around and awkwardly held out a hand to shake. "I'm Blaine Anderson. I work here. Actually, I'm new. I just started last month. I'm the educator for the early learning classes."

"So you teach the littlest Primes how to control their gifts," Kurt interpreted. "That's impressive. I'm not sure that I could do what you do."

"Yeah, but what you do is pretty important," Blaine said. "I mean, you're the youngest congressman from New York, and one of the youngest in the country's history. And you're making a difference in how people see both Primes and gays."

"I'd like to think so," Kurt said modestly. "But to be honest, a lot of my influence is thanks to the PCC."

Blaine just smiled and shook his head. "I can't believe I ran into Kurt Hummel."

"Well I can't believe I ran into Blaine Anderson," Kurt teased. "He's so much more interesting than a boring politician."

"No way that's true," Blaine laughed. 

"Seriously," Kurt told him. "I... I usually don't hit on perfect strangers... ever really... but would you like to have dinner me this evening?"

Blaine's eyes widened again. "I'd love to."

Kurt smiled at him again. "Great. Let me have your contact information and I'll text you with the details."

"Sure," Blaine said and pulled out a slightly crumpled business card from his jacket pocket. "My cell is on the back."

"Thanks," Kurt murmured. "I'll be in touch after I meet with Dr. Childress and then check in with my assistant about my schedule."

Blaine nodded and smiled as he continued on his way down the hall. He looked back just as Kurt was finally stepping onto the elevator. Kurt smiled and waved. Blaine waved back with a goofy grin on his face.

GLEE

There were a lot of myths and misconceptions about Primes. One of those misconceptions was that only Alpha Primes were powerful and Omega Primes were the weaker partners. 

In truth, Alpha and Omega descriptors had nothing to do with who had stronger gifts. The differences had to do more with dominance and reproduction. Or to put it simply, Alphas were the more aggressive in their dealings with non-Primes and tended to be dominant in bed and out. Omegas tended to be submissive in bed, but were perfectly capable of standing up to non-Primes and Alphas who were not their partners. But the biggest difference between the two was the fact that Omegas could shift their physiology to allow for reproduction no matter what gender their partner. In effect, they had the ability to be both male and female, at least reproductively speaking.

Another myth was that Primes had soul mates, that a Prime would only ever be able to have sex with that person, and if their partner died, then the other would follow soon after.

In truth, Primes were able to date and have sex just like non-Primes. But, when a Prime found the right partner, they were a lot less likely to divorce. Alphas and Omegas bonded in such a way that there was rarely a bad marriage between them, thus perpetuating the myth.

Kurt had dated a few Primes in his time. He had even dated a few non-Primes. Adam was a perfect example. The reason that Kurt could never truly give himself to a relationship with Adam was because there was some part of him, the instinctual part that had led him to shift for the first time or had allowed him to discover his gifts, knew that he couldn't bond with him.

There were Primes who married non-Primes, against their instincts, but those marriages rarely worked out. 

Of the Primes Kurt had dated, none had met his Primal needs. Each man had been nice and attractive and most were even good in bed. But there hadn't been the connection that would eventually become a permanent bond.

The moment Kurt saw Blaine Anderson, he had felt that connection. That didn't mean that they would automatically become partners, but it did mean that they were compatible on an instinctive level.

Kurt was an Alpha. That much was obvious by both the way he acted and by the testing that all Primes go through when their gifts manifest. In their brief and all too public encounter, Kurt hadn't asked if Blaine was an Alpha or Omega, but he knew. There were subtle hints, things like the way Blaine would drop his eyes when Kurt looked him over or the way his head tilted slightly to the right when he spoke to Kurt, baring his throat.

Kurt had never been one to play into the stereotypical aspects of being an Alpha. He got no pleasure from ordering people around, in or out of bed, but there was something about Blaine's subtle tells that drew him like a moth to a flame.

"What's on my agenda for this evening?" Kurt asked Darla as soon as she picked up his call.

"You have a 6:00 pm meeting with the mayor for drinks to discuss funding park repairs," Darla said. "Then at 7:30 pm you're scheduled for dinner with James Martin and Kyle Dresden regarding the Marriage Equality bill."

Kurt winced. "Those are the ones who want to talk me out of voting favorably, right?"

"Yes," Darla said with disdain. "They're representing a conglomerate of companies that are afraid of the financial ramifications if they have to provide insurance for all those gay spouses."

"Cancel them," Kurt said. "And get me reservations for two at Delucca's. The private room."

"Yes sir," Darla said with a hint of a smile in her voice. "Are you meeting with anyone I should know about?"

"No," Kurt said. "This is personal."

Darla laughed at that. "You do realize that as an elected official, there is no such thing as private, right? If nothing else, Marlene will want to know so that she can plan for any possible public backlash." 

Kurt sighed. "Fine. His name is Blaine Anderson. I just met him today. He's an Omega Prime and we connected."

Darla was also a Prime and ten years older than Kurt. She whistled at that admission. "Wow. First connection? Think it could evolve?"

"I don't know enough yet to say," Kurt said. "That's why I want to have dinner with him."

"I'll text you when I have the reservation," Darla said, back to business. "And I'm pretty sure that Martin and Dresden will want to reschedule."

Kurt sighed heavily. "I'll meet with them, if for no other reason than to laugh in their faces with their idiotic reasoning. Most states already require that domestic partners, of any sexuality, qualify for benefits. The few that don't are such a small percentage of the workforce that it won't have any real impact on the national economy. They're just a front for the religious fanatics."

"I know that and you know that," Darla practically sang. "But I don't think that they know we know that."

Kurt chuckled. "I hate it when you channel old Friends episodes. Just get back to me with that reservation."

"Will do, bossman," Darla said and ended the call.

GLEE

Hours later, Kurt's driver pulled up in front of a six-story walk-up in Chelsea. Kurt's bodyguard climbed from the car and escorted him to the front door. A quick call on the intercom and Blaine came rushing down the steps to meet them. He looked absolutely adorable in a red suit, yellow sweater-vest and a blue bow tie with red birds.

"Blaine," Kurt said with a smile. 

Blaine smiled back. "Hi."

"Sir?" Calvin prompted.

Kurt sighed. "Right. Blaine, this is Calvin, one of my bodyguards. He hates it when I stand around in the open. Besides, we have reservations at Delucca's."

"Wow," Blaine said as he followed Calvin to the waiting town-car. "I've heard of it, but never been. It's impossible to get reservations. At least for us mere mortals."

Kurt chuckled at that. "Yes, well, there are some benefits to being a public figure. And a lot of drawbacks."

"I can imagine," Blaine said.

The drive to Midtown was spent talking about rather mundane things like the weather and traffic, but once they were seated at their table, Blaine looked around and commented on the fact that there were only four other tables in the room, and each one was separated from the others by sound absorbing barriers.

"I find that it's easy to be overheard in restaurants," Kurt said. "Not that I feel like we have to hide, but a little privacy while we get to know each other is a good thing."

"Absolutely," Blaine said. "You felt it too, then, right? The connection?"

"I did," Kurt admitted. "Otherwise we wouldn't be here. Since I entered politics, I don't have the luxury of dating for fun. Now, it has to be serious or not at all."

"I can see that," Blaine said. "It's a sad fact that public figures have to live their lives in a fishbowl. That's one reason I decided against pursuing a career on stage."

"Oh?" Kurt asked as he lifted his water glass. "You wanted to act?"

"Actually, I was more into music," Blaine said. "I was in my high school glee club."

"I was too young to join clubs in high school, but I sang in the school choir in grade school and middle school," Kurt said. "I also sang in an acapella group at Columbia."

"I know," Blaine said. "There isn't much about you that hasn't been dug up and printed somewhere on the internet."

"Right," Kurt said with a sigh. "Anyway, you were telling me about why you chose to teach instead?"

"Well, when it came right down to it, I wanted to do more to help people than I could as a singer," Blaine said. "Plus, my brother is a struggling actor and I figured one struggling artist in the family is more than enough. So when the time came to choose a major in school, I chose early childhood education at Ohio State. Then I went on to get my master's degree in Prime education at NYU."

"Are you from Ohio, then?" Kurt asked.

Blaine nodded. "Just a short ways from Lima, actually. But I went to high school in Westerville, a private boy's school called Dalton Academy."

"If we were that close, I feel like we should have met at the Prime Center or summer camp or something," Kurt said.

Blaine actually blushed at that. "My parents... aren't all that accepting of my differences. They chose to hire a private tutor instead, so that they wouldn't have to tell their country club friends that their son is a Prime. They don't hate me; they're just... embarrassed, I guess."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "That's their loss."

Blaine nodded. "I don't think they have any idea just how powerful and influential Primes are."

"The PCC got me elected," Kurt said. "That's definitely some power."

"I don't really think that they got you elected," Blaine said. "I've been following your political career, and I'm sure that they played a part in fundraising and getting you in with the right people, but you... You have a way about you that makes people want to follow your lead."

"It's one of my gifts," Kurt admitted. "Persuasion. It's not strong enough to make people turn against their fundamental beliefs or feelings, but if there is room for doubt, I can almost always get them to see things my way. It's not a gift I use indiscriminately and one I will never share with the public."

Blaine nodded. "People would distrust their own feelings and thoughts if they thought you could sway them. Fear would override any good you have done or could do in the future."

"Exactly," Kurt said. "In truth, I don't use many of my gifts these days."

"What are your other gifts?" Blaine asked and then blushed. "I'm sorry. That was a rude question."

Just then, the server brought over their entrees and Kurt took a moment to consider how comfortable he felt sharing such personal information. Yet he had already told Blaine his biggest secret. He obviously trusted him on an instinctual level already.

Once they were alone again, Kurt smiled at Blaine. "You don't need to apologize. I have an eidetic memory, can learn information from touching an object or book and can read thoughts and memories through touch as well. Which is why I wore gloves throughout my childhood and teens, until I learned to control when I used those gifts. What about you?"

Blaine smiled. "I'm an empath, so I can tell feelings just by being in the same room with someone. If I'm really close to the person emotionally, I can tell what they are feeling even from a distance. I'm also a telepath, but I've only ever really used that to talk to my friends in school when a lecture was boring. And my last gift is one I didn't discover until I was actually doing my student teaching. I can help just about anyone learn just about anything."

"Useful in your line of work," Kurt said. "But I can see that it would be useful elsewhere as well. I'd love to have that gift when I'm trying to explain to my colleagues in congress why they should vote a certain way. It goes beyond persuasion, because it reaches into the inner mind of the person you are teaching."

Blaine nodded. "It does. But it could be a dangerous thing in the wrong hands. In fact, I try to be very careful how and when I use it. I could inadvertently teach one of my students the wrong thing."

Kurt chuckled. "I swear, my stepbrother whines all the time about why I got gifts and he didn't. But I don't think that most people understand how difficult it is to know when and how to use those gifts."

"There are constant ethical dilemmas that non-Primes can never understand," Blaine said. "They just think that it would be cool."

"So, while we're asking questions that are normally considered rude, let me ask you what forms you have," Kurt said and then took a sip of his wine.

Blaine finished chewing the bite in his mouth and then said, "Well, my primal form is a Chesapeake Bay Retriever."

Kurt chuckled. "I can definitely see that." 

"It's the dark curly hair." Blaine sighed. "Anyway, I have three other forms: a redtailed hawk, a black jaguar, and a rabbit. Oh, plus I'm an Omega, so there's that, too."

"You're a black jaguar?" Kurt asked with surprise. "That was the second form I mastered."

Blaine's eyes widened. "Really? I've never met any other Primes with a black jaguar form. I've met a few with big cats, but not a jaguar, and especially not black."

"It's pretty amazing," Kurt agreed. "My primal form is another cat: a long-haired house cat called a Turkish angora, with a light tan tabby coat, to be more specific. I have three other forms: a barred owl, an eastern wolf and the last form I mastered was a chinchilla."

"Oh, I love chinchillas!" Blaine cooed. "They are just so soft and cuddly!" Kurt just snorted at that, so Blaine went on. "Do you think we inherit certain traits from our other forms, or do you think we take other forms that reflect traits that we already have?"

"I don't know," Kurt said thoughtfully. "There's definitely a link between our primal forms and personality. And I think there is a less distinctive, yet still present, link with the other forms. But whether one informs the other, I couldn't say. It's like asking which came first, the chicken or the egg?" 

Blaine nodded. "I suppose that's true. So which traits do you share with your animal forms?"

Kurt smirked flirtatiously. "I think that's something you'll have to discover for yourself."

"I can't wait," Blaine said with a grin.

GLEE

Kurt was in New York for two weeks after that first date and in that time, he saw Blaine a total of nine times. It was easy to see how their connection could evolve into a true bond. But neither of them were in a hurry to make that happen too soon. So they spent as much time together as they could while Kurt was in New York and they kept the dates fairly chaste, not allowing them to move past kissing, no matter how badly they each wanted more.

There was too much to consider before taking their relationship to a physical level. Because of their connection, sex would lead to bonding. Not instantly, of course, but with time, the bond would develop and be difficult to break. And there was still so much they needed to learn about each other.

So they spent time while Kurt was in DC talking on the phone every day and Skyping as often as they could. They texted each other and sent cute little emails. It wasn't unusual for them to have contact of some form twenty times in a single day.

It was about a month after Kurt returned to DC that news broke that the Governor of New York had a heart attack and died after a scandal broke regarding corruption in his administration. The lieutenant governor was being impeached and the state senate was calling for an election. 

Kurt got the call from the PCC that they wanted him to run. 

Kurt talked it over with Blaine over Skype that evening. "I just think it's too soon."

"You're in a good place politically right now," Blaine disagreed. "You got a lot of attention from the last election and you've been very visible with your stance on most subjects, getting air time on most of the news channels. You've got support from celebrities, businessmen and politicians alike. Hell, even the president of the UN has spoken out in your favor. Now is a great time to run."

"I wasn't thinking politically," Kurt admitted quietly. "If I run for governor right now, the media and my opponents will all be looking for scandal and gossip. Our privacy will be a thing of the past. And while I accepted that before I ever ran for office, that's not something I can ask you to take on."

"You aren't asking," Blaine said quietly. "I'm offering. I'm willing to do this, even knowing what it will mean."

"Why?" was the only thing Kurt could think to ask.

"Because I think you're worth the trouble," Blaine said. "And I think we both know that the bond has started forming, even without sex. Even with hundreds of miles between us."

"It has," Kurt agreed. "I can't seem to stop thinking about you. You're the first thing I think of when I wake up and the last thing I think of when I go to bed. I dream about you and the future we could have together."

"Do you dream about us in the White House?" Blaine asked. "Because we're going to be there someday."

Kurt huffed a laugh at that. "You and the PCC."

"It's going to happen, Kurt," Blaine vowed and Kurt believed him. 

GLEE

Rather than wait for the press to discover their relationship and spin it negatively Kurt and Blaine began attending public events together. Blaine went to DC a few weekends but mostly Kurt came to New York. And when the question of their relationship inevitably arose Kurt would smile and tell the reporters that they were still in the process of figuring that out. 

The first time Blaine was asked to do an interview, he called Kurt up in a panic. 

"Don't freak out," Kurt told him. "Tell them you'll do the interview, but schedule it for next week. Then we'll talk to my press liaison and make sure you are completely prepared for it."

"What if I make a complete idiot of myself?" Blaine whined.

"You won't," Kurt assured him. "You are one of the most intelligent and charming men I have ever met. You'll do just fine. We'll just go over what you should and shouldn't say. The press can sometimes take things out of context, so it's best to be prepared for any possible questions."

And so, over three different meetings with Elaine, Kurt's press liaison, Blaine was introduced to the frightening world of media relations. Kurt smiled and held his hand through the mock interview on the last day and smiled when Elaine declared that Blaine was a natural.

The interview happened the next day and Blaine got through it with flying colors. The reporter was so taken with Blaine that she even stayed around afterward to ask him more about the work he did with the kids at the center. Blaine gushed about his puppets and music and how using creative arts to introduce concepts to the children was absolutely the best way to teach young children.

The article, when it was published in the New York Times the next day was as much about Blaine's views on education as it was on their budding relationship.

That night, to celebrate, Kurt invited Blaine over to his apartment for dinner. It wasn't the first time that Blaine had been to Kurt's rather lavish apartment on the Upper West Side, but it was the first time Kurt had cooked for him. And it was the first time he spent the night.

Making love for the first time was definitely worth the wait. Kurt was gentle and lavished attention on his lover and Blaine lapped it all up, spurring Kurt on with words and moans and pleas for more. And when they were finished, they both just soaked up the intense feeling of rightness as they held each other. The bond was growing much faster than either of them had ever imagined it would.

GLEE

At 31 years old, Kurt became the youngest governor in New York history, and one of the youngest in the country's history. Some of his opponents declared that he was only elected because the people of New York were infatuated by the blossoming relationship between him and his new boyfriend. His side supporters firmly disagreed, stating that Kurt's had been the front runner long before the relationship came to light.

Neither side could deny that the people loved Blaine as much as they loved Kurt. And every move the couple made was followed avidly. It wasn't the typical celebrity gossip, either. The couple was treated more like royalty: there was worship but there was also respect. And their popularity grew beyond the borders of New York. When Kurt and Blaine called for a press conference six months after Kurt took office, every major news outlet in the world showed up.

Kurt and Blaine entered the packed auditorium looking like royalty, hands clasped for mutual support. They paused a couple of times to greet people who had been supportive but moved on quickly to the podium at center stage. Once there, they stood together as a united front.

"Thank you for coming," Kurt finally addressed the crowd. "As I'm sure that you all know, Blaine and I have been participating in a courtship for the past year and a half. Last night, Blaine agreed to become my husband."

There was a storm of photos and questions then, and it took several minutes to get the crowd back under control with the promise of questions at the end.

"We don't have a specific date for the wedding as yet, but we're aiming for the spring in New York City. Obviously, we will have to work with state and local law enforcement to make sure that we can ensure the safety of our guests. That will make planning a little more complicated than the average wedding."

"We do want to find a way to share our happy day with as many people as we can," Blaine cut in. "We know that many people have supported us from the start and we are truly grateful."

"My personal staff is already working on a website that will have all the updates regarding the wedding available as soon as possible," Kurt continued. "I would also like to assure the people of New York that all expenses related to our wedding will be paid from my private funds and planning will be done by my personal staff. This is not a state event and should not be a burden to the taxpayers."

After that, the floor was opened to questions. "Governor, what role will Blaine take in your administration after you marry?"

Kurt turned to Blaine to answer. "The governor and I have discussed the shortcomings of our educational system and would like to find a way to make it better, to give our children a competitive edge in a global market. And we aren't going to wait to get started. We have already been brainstorming ideas and people and hope to have a strong committee assembled in the near future."

"We will have a separate press conference when we're ready to move forward," the state press secretary told the crowd. 

"It's been established that you are a Prime, Governor Hummel," the reporter from CNN began. "Is Mr. Anderson also a Prime? And if so, have you bonded?"

Kurt and Blaine shared a look and Blaine nodded to his fiancé. "Blaine is a Prime. And we have bonded. At this time, that's all we are prepared to share with the public."

"When did you bond?" the reporter persisted.

Blaine sighed. "Bonding is an extremely private subject. We aren't hiding anything; we're simply protecting a very personal and intimate experience, an experience that is different for every bonded couple. Sharing the details with you would do nothing to enlighten you regarding Prime mating habits. If I believed that sharing those details would benefit anyone, I would be the first person to speak up. But, sharing the details of mine and Kurt's bonding will only serve to satisfy the prurient curiosity of a small percentage of the population."

"In other words, we will not invite you into our bedroom," Kurt said with a smirk. "Next question."

"Is one of you an omega?" a woman from NBC asked. "And can we expect that there will be an announcement regarding children at some point in the future?"

Blaine decided that he would answer. "While it is possible for an alpha to marry another alpha, only an alpha and omega Prime can actually form a bond. I am an omega. And I expect that at some point in the future, we will decide to have children. Having said that, neither of us are in a rush. For now, we are happy and concentrating on our upcoming wedding."

"Blaine, you've maintained your apartment and job in New York City up until now," the woman from the New York Times said. "With your impending nuptials, will you be making the move to Albany?"

"I became a teacher because I wanted to have an impact on young lives," Blaine said. "And for that reason, I stayed with the PCC throughout Kurt's campaign and since he took office. Having said that, the opportunity to impact millions of children through potential educational reform is one I can't pass up. It would be unfair to my students to divide my time and attention in that way. So I will be giving up my job with the PCC. As for moving to Albany, I'll be very glad not to have to commute three hours for dates."

"So will I," Kurt said with a smile for his fiancé. "Blaine will be moving into the mansion within the month. I only wish it could be sooner."

There was another barrage of photos as the two men got lost in each other's eyes for a brief minute. When Kurt finally turned back to the press, he was smiling. 

"That's all for now, folks," Kurt said. "We'll be in touch as more decisions are made."

GLEE


	8. Commune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaine goes to an artists commune to become the curator for their museum. There, he meets Kurt, an artist with a little girl he is raising alone.

Blaine wasn’t quite sure where he was going, but the GPS in his Mercedes ML63 SUV seemed to indicate that he was at least heading in the right general direction. As he looked around himself at the seemingly never ending forest, he wondered if there was some sort of computer glitch. This couldn’t be right. Wesley had described a small village, not a cabin in the woods.

Just as he was about to give up and turn around, Blaine finally saw signs posted for the Blue Lake Artists’ Community. He turned off the road and up the long paved drive. There were even more trees and the road wended around curves and hills, but eventually, the trees parted and he saw a large parking lot. He pulled into a space and climbed from his car. The trip up from Pittsburgh hadn’t been long, just over an hour south-southwest of the city, but he was never comfortable driving these back roads, despite his SUV’s great traction.

There were only a handful of cars in the lot, but that wasn’t surprising since it was only 9:00 on a Monday morning in March. Any tourist traffic they would have would probably come later. And from what Wes said, they got plenty of tourists in their little community.

Leaving his car behind, Blaine made his way up the footpath towards what was obviously the visitor’s center and shop. That was where he was scheduled to meet with Marcy Rider. She was the community’s elected leader.

Blaine had read up on this place before he ever agreed to make the trip up here, but he still wasn’t convinced that he was interested in being a part of an "intentional community." No matter what the website stated, it sounded a lot like a hippie commune to him. And while he was typically pretty open-minded, he wasn’t sure if he was that open-minded. But Wes had pressed the point that he couldn’t keep moping around forever. He needed to get out and find a life, even if it wasn’t the one he had thought it would be.

The visitor’s center housed a small museum and Blaine felt at home right away. The art work on display was an eclectic mix of pieces from local artists, displaying the regional art history. It also had pieces made by some of the community’s resident artists. The shop, on the other hand was almost totally outfitted with pieces from the community. 

“Can I help you?” a voice asked as Blaine contemplated a vase made in the style of the Murano glass artisans. The swirling blues and greens were exquisite. Blaine smiled at the red-headed woman who had greeted him. She looked to be in her sixties, but she was dainty and pretty despite her age. And she wore a classically tailored suit in a festive pink.

“I’m here to meet with Marcy Rider,” Blaine said. “I’m Blaine Anderson.”

Her smile widened. “Well Blaine, you found me. Let me just get Johanna to cover the shop and we can go upstairs to my office to talk.”

Blaine waited patiently for a couple minutes and then followed Marcy to the stairs in the center’s foyer. While the downstairs was filled with light and high ceilings, the upstairs was more cozy. They passed several offices before reaching one marked with Marcy’s name. The walls of this room were painted sienna and the cream upholstery and oak furniture gave the space a warm and homey feel. The walls were decorated with pieces of art that Blaine presumed came from some of the community artists. Blaine took a seat in one of the two armchairs where Marcy indicated and decided the chair was as comfortable as it was beautiful.

“So, Blaine,” Marcy said as she took a seat across from him on the sofa. “I’m glad you decided to come out and meet with me. I was quite impressed by your resume. Four years interning with MOMA while you were in school at Columbia, two years as a junior-curator for the Warhol Museum and the past three years as an assistant curator for Carnegie Mellon. That’s a very impressive curriculum vitae.”

Blaine nodded. “Thank you.”

“So that begs the question why you would be interested in running our little museum and gift shop,” Mary said bluntly.

Blaine sighed. “To be perfectly honest, I’m not sure yet if I am. But a good friend suggested I come up and see your community before I make any kind of judgment. I have to say, though the center is small, what I’ve seen so far is very impressive.”

“Just wait until you see the educational center and the studios,” Marcy said with a smile. “We’re all very proud of the work we have done here, and continue to do. This community was founded on the idea that to truly perfect their craft, an artist needs support. In centuries past, that support came from patrons, but that practice fell away. These days, we lose many creative and talented artists to commercialism because they simply cannot pay the bills any other way.”

“How, exactly does an intentional community work?” Blaine asked. “I tried to read up a little, but in truth, most sources said that it can be different for every community.”

“That is true,” Marcy agreed. “An intentional community is simply a community designed to promote social cohesion and teamwork. Usually there is a common goal shared by all members. In this case, it is the preservation and promotion of the fine arts. I can give you a copy of our bylaws, if you choose to come to work for us. But basically, Blue Lake owns about 175 acres of land and all of the buildings and facilities on that land. In return for living here, each artist or supporter agrees to give back a percentage of their income to the community. We also have additional income in the form of donations and the rental income from several cabins on the far side of the lake as well as a sizable endowment fund. The money is then used to maintain the property, for marketing our art, and even for helping those who are struggling to get started.

“Every artist has the option of selling their work in the shop and on our website,” Marcy continued. “But they also have the option to sell their work separately, as well. Many of our artists travel to arts and crafts fairs and maintain electronic mailing lists.”

“And the non-artists?” Blaine asked.

“Supporters,” Marcy corrected. “Supporters are here to help promote the artists and the arts in general. We have several educational programs and two gifted art teachers on staff. All of our resident artists also agree to teach at least one workshop a year. It’s up to them to set the ages and topics for those. Then we have people who help here at the center and tour guides and maintenance staff. Some of the supporters live here, and others only come to work.”

“So I could work here without being a member of the community?” Blaine asked. He hadn’t realized that would be an option.

“You can,” Marcy said reluctantly. “But I would suggest that if you think you want to take the position, that you give living in the community a shot. For two reasons: 1, there aren’t a lot of options for housing nearby and 2, you could speak more knowledgeably when you field the inevitable questions about the community.”

Blaine nodded. That made sense, even if he still wasn’t quite sure that this was the right place for him.

“All new members go through a six month trial period,” Marcy explained. “After that time, both the provisional member and the community decide if it is a good fit. It gives everyone a chance to really consider how well the rapport is going.”

It all made perfect sense to Blaine. But the real question was if Blaine thought he could stand to live like this. He was saved from having to come up with something else to say because Marcy stood up.

“Why don’t we go take a tour,” Marcy said. “I think Gary should be starting a visitor’s tour, and we can tag along for a while before I show you the more private aspects of our community.”

This is how Blaine ended up following along behind a young man as he explained to the small group of visitors about the community and the various artists they were visiting. The artist who had made that amazing vase was actually working in his shop and answered questions. They also saw the studios of two potters, three sculptors, seven painters, three photographers, two textile artists, and a mixed-media artist. Some were in their shops and were happy to answer a few questions about their work or life in the community. Even those workshops that were sans artist were pretty interesting because they had pieces in varying stages of completion. And Gary knew enough about each of the artists’ work to answer any questions intelligently.

They broke off from the group as they headed back to the visitor’s center and Marcy led the way down a hill to the educational center. “Gary is one of three tour guides,” She told Blaine. “He’s probably the best, since he grew up here, but they all are quite knowledgeable about art and the community. The tours and the guides fall under the responsibility of the Museum Curator; as does running the gift shop. We have a marketing specialist who deals with the website, but you would have a say in what is sold there as well as full control over what is sold in the shop.”

“And the educational center?” Blaine asked.

“That falls under the leadership of Ted,” Marcy said. “He's one of the two teachers. He also coordinates the workshops and works with Mindy, our marketing guru, to get people to attend. Between the workshops and our regular classes, we serve more than 5,000 people each year.”

Blaine was actually surprised by that. “That many people come all the way out here?”

Marcy shrugged. “It isn’t that far from Pittsburgh, especially the southern suburbs. But we also partner with several community centers in the city to provide after school classes. In fact Elliot, our newest resident artist, came through one of those programs. He went to college for fine art and then chose to come back here. His provisional period will be up in a few weeks. He’s one of those who isn’t quite self-sufficient yet, but will no doubt be within a couple years. ”

The tour of the educational center was pretty impressive. They had facilities to teach children of any age about almost any type of art. And Blaine could see from the works hung on the walls that many of the children were quite gifted and their talent was being fostered.

“Some of the older students actually do summer apprenticeships with our resident artists,” Marcy said. “We all see it as our responsibility to pass on the love of art to the next generation. Not all of them will become artists, but they will appreciate the talent and hard work that goes into the beautiful things they see.”

“You said that Gary grew up here,” Blaine said. “Do many of the artists have families?”

“Yes,” Marcy said. “Though not all of them have young children. And not everyone stays permanently.”

“How many artists can the community accommodate?” Blaine asked.

“We have studios for up to twenty artists,” Marcy said. “Currently, there are nineteen in residence. If we were completely full and felt that more facilities were needed, we do have funds in our capital endowment to expand. We only started with five artists, so we have already expanded several times. Though we don’t want to get too big that we lose that sense of close community, either. It’s a fine balance.”

They left the educational center and began to walk along a path that circled behind the various studios. For each studio, there was a modestly sized home tucked back in the woods. They didn’t actually go inside any of the homes, but Blaine could see from the outside that each home was as unique as the resident. Bright colors and decorative touches gave each cottage a personality all its own. As they rounded back closer to the visitor’s center, they came to several houses that were not obviously connected to a studio.

“A few of our lower-level, single supporters share the largest house, down the way” Marcy said. “Right now, there are three of them in there.” She turned up one of the side paths to the cottage closest to the artists’ cottages. “But this little bungalow would be yours.”

Blaine was not shocked to find that the house was actually quite nice. All of the houses he had seen so far were nice and in great repair. It was quite a bit bigger than he had expected for just him.

“The previous curators all had families,” Marcy said when she noticed his stare. “The house goes with the job.”

“Well, it’s a lot more room than my apartment in Shadyside,” Blaine said.

The foyer opened up to the living room and a modern kitchen on one side and a study and guest room on the other. The interior was painted with bright and cheerful colors that made Blaine smile. He could already imagine where he would place each piece of his furniture in this space. There was an open stairway to the second floor in the foyer and Blaine headed up. Upstairs, there were two guest bedrooms and the master suite, which alone was almost larger than his entire apartment currently.

“There’s certainly nothing to complain about here,” Blaine said as he met Marcy back at the front door.

“We want everyone to be comfortable,” Marcy said. “Now that we’ve seen everything, let’s get back to that question I asked back in my office that you so neatly avoided answering.”

Blaine’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Which question?”

“The one about why a young man with a promising career in his field would contemplate leaving that behind to join our community,” Marcy said. “I love this place, and I will never say a bad word against it, but we aren’t exactly a prestigious museum.”

They walked along in silence for a few minutes while Blaine contemplated how to answer that. Finally, he just went with the truth. “I was in a serious relationship. Sebastian and I had been together since high school. And I knew he could be a little callous about some things, but I thought…” Blaine shook his head. “I turned down a full-time position at MOMA after college to follow him to Pittsburgh, because this was where his father’s law firm is located and he wanted to go to work for him while he completed his law degree at Carnegie Mellon.”

“What happened?” Marcy asked. Her voice was laced with sympathy, not pity.

“I caught him sleeping with someone else in our bed,” Blaine said dully. “I knew things weren’t perfect, but that… It was too much. Anyway, that happened about eight months ago. I’ve been living in a tiny apartment that’s not really home ever since, but I haven’t really been… living. You know?”

“I know alright,” Marcy said. 

“Well, my friend Wes saw your ad and suggested that maybe getting away from all the familiar stuff would help me move past everything that happened,” Blaine said. “Because we’d been together for so long, our lives were completely intertwined. I couldn’t go anywhere without running into one of his friends or the new boyfriend. And then I found out that the new boyfriend’s father is on the board at Carnegie and blocked my promotion, so I resigned. It’s all just a mess right now.”

Marcy nodded. “You know, not everyone joins our community out of financial necessity. Some join to get away from the harshness of the world outside. Some come to heal before moving on. We can go over salary and vacation and all the other stuff that goes with getting a job. But I think the best thing we can offer you is the space and time you need to figure out who you are and what you want. And who knows, after six months here, maybe you’ll decide that this is really where you are supposed to be.”

BKBKBKBKBK

Blaine wasn’t quite sure how he ended up agreeing to the six month trial period, but he had. And two weeks later, he was on his way to meet the moving truck at his new home at Blue Lake. Wes had helped him pack and had taken him out to dinner the evening before. He had even promised to come down and visit in a few weeks. In the meantime, Blaine would face his new life completely alone.

Marcy had said that the community usually had a potluck supper in the education center or in the picnic area, depending on the weather, once a month. Just his luck that the monthly dinner was two nights after he arrived, so he would get to meet everyone right away. As much as Blaine was normally a people person, Sebastian’s betrayal had made him a lot more closed off and wary of people than he ever had been before. 

Still, Blaine couldn’t regret his decision to come to Blue Lake. The peaceful environment, being surrounded by people who shared his passion for art, and being far away from the daily reminders of his misplaced trust would definitely be good for him. He just had to keep reminding himself of that. 

The house was even better than he remembered as he pulled his SUV into the small carport off the back road that circled the houses. The moving truck was already there and he quickly let them inside with the key that Marcy had given him when they met to sign his contract earlier that week. The next three hours were spent in directing the movers and trying to get some sense of where he should put everything. His small apartment hadn’t taken much furniture so Blaine had gone out and ordered some new things to furnish the house. He’d left off ordering anything for the guest rooms yet, but he got a new desk for his study and a larger table for the kitchen.

Even with all the boxes everywhere when the movers left, the place already looked more like home than his old apartment ever had. In fact, it was more home than the place he and Sebastian had shared. With a small smile, Blaine set to work unpacking. He started in his bedroom and worked his way to the kitchen. In the living room and his study, he took great care in sorting through some of the art pieces he had collected over the years. Most had been relegated to a storage unit since Sebastian had not shared Blaine’s love of art and the apartment he moved to after Sebastian didn’t have space. But now he could display each piece.

By the time that Blaine finished up for the night, he felt like he was well on his way to being settled into his new home. 

Part Two

The next morning, Blaine headed over to the visitor’s center early after a breakfast of oatmeal with fresh peaches. The hearty food made him feel ready to take on just about anything. He carried a small box of personal items for his office, but decided to collect community art to display rather than clutter the space with his personal collection. One of the first things he would buy for his office would be that vase he had admired yesterday. 

Blaine’s office was actually one of the corner offices and overlooked the heart of Blue Lake’s campus. He could see all of the workshops and the parking area as well as the lake just beyond the education center. The furnishings were simple and modern, much to Blaine’s relief. He was not a fan of cluttered workspaces, but the simple steel and mahogany furniture lent itself to his minimalistic style. 

For the first couple hours, Blaine was alone in the center. He knew that the offices didn’t officially open until 9:30, so he had plenty of time to go through his predecessor’s files and notes. He read through the personnel files for his team of workers and noted which ones were members and which ones were day workers. He read through the budget and the tentative goals set out by the BLIC members for the year. By the time the rest of the staff began to filter in, Blaine really felt like he had a handle on what he would need to do in his first few weeks.

Once people started arriving for the day, Blaine’s time was taken up with meeting all of the people with whom he would be working and the day seemed to fly by. It wasn’t until late afternoon that he got a chance to really take some time to head down to the museum and study the various displays on regional art history. The displays were very informative, but he found that they weren’t very visually appealing and held no interest for younger visitors. He would have to consider what he could do about that, he decided.

“Who’re you?”

Blaine turned from his contemplation of one of the displays to find an adorable little girl standing beside him. She was wearing a denim mini-skirt with multi-colored tights and a sweater knitted with flowers and butterflies all over. The bright colors emphasized her pale coloring and her wide blue eyes.

“I’m Blaine,” Blaine said as he squatted down and offered his hand for her to shake. “And who might you be?”

She giggled as she shook Blaine’s hand. “I’m Cordelia. I live here with my daddy. He’s an artist.”

“Well, I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Cordelia,” Blaine said. “I just moved to Blue Lake, so I’m sure we’ll get to be great friends.”

She gave him a bright smile that seemed to light up the room. “Are you an artist, too?”

Blaine stood up and shook his head. “No, I run the museum here and let people see all the art that the artists here make.”

Cordelia took Blaine’s hand and led him to another display. “My daddy made this before I was born.”

“Did he?” Blaine asked as he looked at one of his favorite pieces in the entire museum. It was a multi-media modern piece that mixed shreds of paper ripped from fashion magazines with swatches of fabric. There were several places where the artist had then painted portions of the human body, and the center of the piece was painted with a nude woman, obviously pregnant, emphasizing the beauty of the natural form sans adornment. “This is actually one of my favorite pieces.”

“Mine too,” another voice stated. 

Blaine and Cordelia both turned to find one of the most beautiful men that Blaine had ever seen standing nearby. He had chestnut brown hair, the same shade as Cordelia’s, and wide blue-green eyes. He was taller than Blaine, but his physique was more delicate in some ways. He was wearing black skinny jeans and a cream cashmere sweater with a brooch that Blaine could swear was the head of a hippopotamus. 

“Delia, I thought I asked you to wait for me with Miss Johanna while I talked to Mrs. Marcy?” 

Cordelia pouted adorably. “But she was busy and Mr. Blaine wasn’t.”

The man quirked an eyebrow as he finally glanced over at Blaine. “Mr. Blaine I presume?”

Blaine gave him his most charming smile and offered his hand. “I’m Blaine Anderson, the new curator. I just moved in yesterday.”

“Kurt Hummel,” Kurt said as he took Blaine’s hand in his own. There was a brief spark of something that Blaine couldn’t quite identify that flashed between them before Kurt let go. Their eyes seemed locked on each other, however. “Welcome to Blue Lake.”

“Thank you,” Blaine said almost breathlessly.

“Are we still going to see Uncle Finn?” Cordelia finally asked, breaking the spell between the two men.

“Yes, sweetie,” Kurt said. “We’re meeting him and Aunt Rachel for dinner.”

“Yay!” Cordelia said with excitement. “Let’s go!”

Kurt smiled at Blaine again. “I guess we’ll see you at the pot luck tomorrow evening.”

“I look forward to it,” Blaine said with another smile. Suddenly he really was looking forward to the community meal.

Kurt turned and led Cordelia away and Blaine noted that he had a slight limp. But as they walked hand in hand from the museum, Blaine watched and wondered what had just happened.

BKBKBKBKBK

“We met a new friend today,” Cordelia announced over dinner. “Mr. Blaine is really nice. He liked Daddy’s picture a lot.”

“Mr. Blaine?” Rachel asked Kurt with a smirk. “New boyfriend.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “He’s the new curator and he just moved in yesterday. We don’t even know if he’s straight or gay at this point.”

“He was really nice,” Cordelia said. “And he had curly dark hair and glasses. He looked smart.”

“I’m sure he’s very smart, Delia,” Kurt said.

“I wish we could stay a few days,” Finn said. “I’d like to check this guy out. Make sure he isn’t up to anything.”

“Finn, they do a background check on everyone before they are allowed to move to Blue Lake,” Kurt said with a sigh. “Besides, Marcy was telling me that he’s really overqualified for the position, but needs a place to regroup because of some personal issues. I don’t think he’s a potential stalker.”

“Nobody thought Karofsky was either,” Finn pointed out.

“Who’s Ka- Kafrosty?” Delia asked.

“Nobody important,” Kurt said, giving Finn a stern look. They didn't talk about that man in front of Cordelia.

“Well, it is too bad we can't stay for longer,” Rachel said. “But I have to be back in New York for a meeting with some producers tomorrow afternoon. But the next time we come out this way, we’ll definitely stay for a few days. In fact, I think we’ve got it worked out for some time in June, right Finn?”

Finn nodded. “After school’s out for summer. Your agent said you’ll definitely have some time between the readings and the previews. And I already told Mom and Burt that we’d be out to see them too.”

“Yay!” Delia squealed and hugged Finn. “I can’t wait. Will you take me with you to see Grandpa and Grandma?”

Finn hugged his niece and said, “That’s up to your daddy.” Both Finn and Cordelia turned puppy eyes on Kurt.

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Fine. Take her with you. I would go myself, but you know that June is one of the busiest months for fairs.”

After leaving the restaurant, Finn and Cordelia skipped off to the car together, leaving Kurt and Rachel alone to walk at a more sedate pace.

“So, what’s really up with this new guy?” Rachel demanded. “You can fool Finn, but I saw the look in your eyes when Delia brought him up.”

Kurt shook his head at her tenacity. “I’m not really sure. Like I said, I don’t even know if he’s gay or not. But…”

“But?” Rachel prompted.

Kurt took a deep breath before continuing on. “But there was just something… when we shook hands it was like… electricity or something. It was nothing I can really put into words. But I’ve never felt anything like it before.”

“Well, sounds to me like there just might something there to explore,” Rachel said. “Don’t let your past keep you from being open to a future. Put yourself out there and see where this thing goes.” 

“Maybe I will,” Kurt hummed thoughtfully as they caught up to Finn and Delia.

BKBKBKBKBK

Blaine arrived at the pot luck carrying a pan of lasagna, one of the few things he could cook without a major disaster. Growing up in a home where the housekeeper did most of the cooking and with parents who thought that boys should not spend a lot of time in the kitchen, followed by living at a boarding school where all meals were provided, had not prepared Blaine for life on his own. He had managed to pick up a few tricks in the kitchen, but for the most part, he lived on takeout and frozen meals. Since coming to Blue Lake, it was mostly the latter, since there was only one place that actually delivered in town and how often can one actually eat bad pizza?

The one thing that Sebastian had done that was in any way domesticated was cook. Blaine had been the one to clean their apartment and take out the trash. He had been the one to deal with neighbors and pick up the dry cleaning. But Sebastian had been a decent cook. Looking back, Blaine wondered if that was the only reason he really stayed with him because Sebastian had never been affectionate or considerate or any of the other things Blaine always said he wanted in a partner. He had never encouraged talking about their emotions. In fact, he had discouraged all talk of feelings. Blaine could count on one hand the number of times that Sebastian had said he loved him. The fact that those words only ever came into use when Blaine was seriously pissed off should have been a sign, but Blaine had been too oblivious to notice. 

Shaking off those negative thoughts, Blain plastered on a smile and headed into the education center. Cordelia spotted him almost immediately and rushed over to greet him. 

"Hi Mr. Blaine!" Cordelia said as she wrapped her arms around his legs in a hug.

"Hello Miss Cordelia," Blaine said with a genuine smile. Then he looked up see that Kurt had followed his daughter over. He gave an even bigger smile his direction. 

"Shall I take the imp or the casserole off your hands," Kurt smirked as he noted Blaine's awkward position. 

Blaine shrugged helplessly. "Either would be helpful."

Kurt laughed and grabbed the lasagna from Blaine’s hands, leaving the other man to lift up Cordelia and follow along behind. Kurt dropped the food off at the table in the front of the room with all of the other offerings and then led the way over to one of the round tables covered with very unique tablecloths. Each table was a different base color, but each tablecloth was hand woven in a multitude of shades.

“Maria made them a while back,” Kurt said as he noticed Blaine eyeing the décor. “She one of our resident artists.”

“They’re exquisite,” Blaine said.

“I beg her for scraps all the time for my collages,” Kurt said. “I’ve never seen anyone create fabric the way she does.”

“She makes pretty clothes, too,” Delia said. “She gave me a dress for my birthday and all the girls at school were soooooo jealous.”

“Oh really?” Blaine asked the girl. “And when exactly was your birthday?”

“February 22nd,” Kurt said.

“I turned five,” Cordelia said. “And that means that I get to go to the big kids’ school soon.”

“Wow,” Blaine said as he took a seat and settled Delia on his lap. “That’s very exciting.”

“Blaine, I’d like to introduce you to a few of the other members,” Kurt said as he took the seat next to Blaine. “This is Jenna Jackson and her husband Charlie. Jenna is a painter and Charlie works in town as a mechanic. This is Sheila and Karen Clews and their two sons Jacob and Victor. Sheila is a potter and Karen teaches at the education center. And this Noah Puckerman. He’s the head of our grounds keeping crew. Everyone, this is Blaine Anderson, our new curator.”

“Well, it’s lovely to meet all of you,” Blaine said. “And Noah, I can’t tell you how impressed I have been with how beautiful the landscaping at Blue Lake is. It must be quite the job keeping up with everything.”

“It’s just Puck,” Puck corrected Kurt with a friendly glare. “But thanks. I got a crew of five guys from town that helps out around here, so we get the job done.”

“How long have you all been at Blue Lake?” Blaine asked curiously. He had read through the bios of all of the artists and knew that only five of them were under the age of 35 and three of those were at this table. But reading a bio and actually getting to know someone were two different things. He would really like to know what had drawn them to a place like Blue Lake.

“I grew up here,” Charlie said. “My dad was one of the artists until about five years ago. I never had the talent to become an artist, but I love the community, so I stayed. Then Jenna moved here a while back and we got married.”

“I moved here about four years ago,” Jenna said. “And I’ve never been happier. I found a great place to create and found the love of my life. And now we’re expecting our first child in the fall.”

“That’s great,” Blaine said with a genuine smile. “Congratulations.”

“Well, Karen and I were already together when we got here,” Sheila said. “But Jake had started school and was getting harassed because he had two moms. Things weren’t much better for Karen being an art teacher in public school and being married to another woman. Plus, my sculpting wasn’t paying the bills back then, so trying to create got put aside for putting food on the table. So we looked around for some place that would welcome us as a family and were lucky to find Blue Lake.”

“The boys are much happier here,” Karen said. “I love teaching at the center and now Sheila can really concentrate on her art. It’s a blessing all around.”

“I’ve been here for eight years,” Puck said. “I followed Kurt. He kept telling me how great this place was and then he told me about a job opening on the grounds crew. I’d been working a pool cleaning business since high school, but it didn’t really pay enough and it was seasonal in Ohio. This was a much better offer. Now I love it here.”

A flicker of something flashed across Kurt’s face as Blaine turned to him, but it was gone before Blaine could really identify what it was.

“Well, I’ve been here the longest at this table, other than Charlie,” Kurt said. “I came to Blue Lake nine years ago. I was a just out of high school and going through a rough time when I met Andrew, one of the former artists, at a craft fair and he told me all about Blue Lake. I wasn’t really sure about what I wanted, but I came back with him and began working as a tour guide. While I worked, I bugged all of the artists to teach me anything and everything they could. Now I’m an artist, but sometimes I think that it’s all some cosmic joke how I got here.”

Blaine could tell that there was a lot more to Kurt’s story than he let on, but he didn’t press. It wasn’t the time or place for that.

Delia squirmed from Blaine’s lap and went off with some of the other children to play while the grownups continued to talk. Blaine told them a little about his work history but didn’t share a lot about his personal history. He was still just trying to get a feel for the people. Though he had to admit as the evening wore on and the wine flowed freely on that he could really get to like these people.

BKBKBKBKBK

Delia was once again in Blaine’s lap as the night drew to a close, but she was sleeping now, tired out by all the running she had done with Sheila and Karen’s boys. When Kurt came back to the table with both his casserole dish and Blaine’s, Blaine smiled and stood up carefully so as not to wake Delia. They headed out into the night together.

“They’re good people,” Kurt said quietly as they walked across the campus towards his house.

“They seem that way,” Blaine agreed.

“I said I was going through a rough time when I came here,” Kurt said. “And most of the people here know that, but they don’t really know the whole story.”

“I’d like to listen if you want to tell me,” Blaine said.

“Let’s get Delia to bed and then we can talk over tea,” Kurt said.

They finished the walk in silence and soon Blaine was carrying Delia up the stairs of Kurt’s home and into her bedroom. It was the typical bedroom of a little girl, filled with dolls and pink everywhere. Kurt certainly indulged his daughter. 

Blaine left Kurt to get her undressed and tucked in and headed back down the stairs. Kurt’s home was laid out similarly to the one that Blaine currently occupied, but it showed that he had lived there for quite a while. It was homey and lived in. There were doll dresses on the coffee table next to the latest issue of Vogue. There was a small table set up for frequent tea parties in one corner of the room. Blaine smiled at that.

“She’s out like a light,” Kurt said with a smile as he headed for the kitchen. Blaine followed and took a seat at the breakfast bar.

“She’s a wonderful little girl,” Blaine said. “If it’s not too presumptuous, can I ask where her mother is?”

Kurt gave him a pained smile. “Kelly was an artist here when I first came. She wanted a child so badly and she was my best friend here. So I got intimate with a cup and Kelly did what she had to do with a turkey baster.” Kurt laughed a little at that and Blaine smiled. But then Kurt’s laughter faded and he grew sad again. “There were problems with the pregnancy. Kelly had heart problems that I never knew about. She didn’t tell me that the doctors had said she should never carry a child. I never would have agreed had I known. But by the time I learned the truth…” 

Kurt shook his head. “Kelly only lived long enough to hold Cordelia one time and name her. I came home from the hospital with a brand new baby and no best friend. But Cordelia… Well, Delia became my world pretty quickly. And everyone here helped out. They still do.”

“I’m sorry,” Blaine said quietly.

Kurt smiled sadly at him again. “You couldn’t know.” 

Kurt busied himself making two cups of tea and then they went back to the living room. Blaine moved aside the doll dresses to make room and the two of them sat on the sofa together.

“You said you would explain why you came to Blue Lake,” Blaine reminded him.

“More depressing topics,” Kurt sighed. Blaine was about to offer to talk about something else, but Kurt waved him off. “It’s fine. It’s just not a pleasant story. When I was in high school, I was the only out kid at my school and I got bullied pretty badly, especially by one of the jocks. He spouted all kinds of homophobic nonsense. What I didn’t know—what no one knew—was that he was a very disturbed closet case. Not long before we graduated, he started stalking me. It probably started earlier than that, but that’s when I noticed.”

Kurt took a sip of his tea before continuing. “Anyway, Karofsky always seemed to be where I was, and it started to freak me out. So I told some of my friends, Puck included, and they tried to keep me safe, but they couldn’t be there all the time. One day, I was coming home after working at my father’s garage and my step-brother had followed me home. But there was no sign of Karofsky, so I sent him off to see his girlfriend—now his wife—without checking the house. Karofsky was waiting in my bedroom.”

“Oh my god,” Blaine said with shock.

Kurt nodded. “That was pretty much my reaction too. He was going through my things and was pretty pissed about getting caught. I yelled at him to get out. He yelled some stuff back. It’s all kind of a blur. He kissed me and I kneed him in the groin. Then he hit me. A lot. I don’t remember anything after that.”

“Shit, Kurt,” Blaine said.

“I woke up in the hospital a few days later,” Kurt said. “He had broken a few ribs, dislocated my jaw and busted my knee. I also had a pretty bad concussion. But when I woke up, my dad was there and he told me what happened after. He found Karofsky standing over me and went after him, but he got away. My dad was too busy trying to deal with me to chase him down. But he called the cops and the ambulance. When the cops got to Karofsky’s house, he had hung himself. He left a note saying how he thought he had killed the love of his life and couldn’t live with the guilt. They also found some sick little shrine.”

Kurt shook his head again. “I had always dreamed of being on Broadway, but my knee was too fucked up after that. It took months just to be able to walk on it again and there was no way I was ever going to dance the way I would need to if I was on Broadway. So my dreams were shattered along with my knee.”

“That really had to suck,” Blaine said.

“That’s the understatement of the century,” Kurt said with a small smile. “I had a backup plan to go to school for fashion; I just needed to get well enough to go. In the meantime, I was a wreck. I felt guilty and angry and scared all of the time. And then I met Andrew and he told me about Blue Lake. I came because he thought working with Maria could help me with my fashion career, but I fell in love with the art and the people here. Everyone is so accepting of everyone else. There are petty arguments, but we all support each other. I’m not sure I would ever want to leave now.”

“Thank you for telling me that,” Blaine said as he reached out a hand to squeeze Kurt’s and didn’t let go. “My story seems so trivial in comparison.”

“If it hurt you, it isn’t trivial,” Kurt said.

Blaine smiled gratefully at him. “My family isn’t exactly what you would call close. And after I came out, my parents got even more distant. They sent me to a boarding school, Dalton Academy, to protect me from bullying, but that just made it that much easier to ignore their gay son.”

“That’s horrible,” Kurt said. “I don’t know what I would have done without my father’s support back in high school.”

Blaine shrugged. “It was okay. I mean, I made some great friends at Dalton and they looked out for me. My two best friends, however, were David and Wes. But they were two years ahead of me. Once they graduated, I started feeling really alone. Until I met Sebastian.

“He was so confident and self-assured and he came after me,” Blaine said with a rueful chuckle. “He made me feel important and wanted. He gave me the attention I was missing. I thought I was in love with him. I thought he was in love with me. I overlooked his flaws, like the fact that he could be downright ruthless when anyone crossed him. I overlooked the fact that he wasn’t even all that kind to me. 

“Wes and David hated him,” Blaine admitted. “That should have given me a clue, but I just told them that I was old enough to make up my own mind about someone. So when we graduated, I went to Columbia because that’s where Sebastian wanted to go. And when we graduated from there, I moved to Pittsburgh because Sebastian wanted to go to law school there. I gave up a great job offer to work for MOMA to follow him. But I was working my way up the ladder at Carnegie Museum, so I didn’t mind. I didn’t mind that I had to do most of the work to keep our apartment nice. I didn’t mind that he never told me he loved me unless I was really pissed off at him.”

“What happened to open your eyes?” Kurt asked gently. He squeezed the hand that he was still holding.

“I walked in on him fucking some guy in our bed,” Blaine said with a frown. “I just stood there, frozen to the spot for a couple minutes. Then Sebastian turned to me and said, ‘Either get over here and join us or get the fuck out.’ As if I was in the wrong to interrupt him.”

“Bastard,” Kurt muttered.

“I left,” Blaine said. “I left the apartment and walked for hours. When I came back, Sebastian was sitting there like he owned the world. He asked where I had been. I told him I was thinking about what I was going to do. He said I was being stupid. Nothing had to change. He’d been fucking this guy for months and there had been others before him. To say I was shocked is putting it mildly. He said that gay men aren’t made for monogamy.”

“That’s such bullshit,” Kurt muttered. “Men that say that are just looking to justify fucking around.”

“That’s what I told him,” Blaine said. “So I moved out. And then I found out that the guy from that day moved in. A few months later, I was up for a big promotion at the museum. Everyone from the director on down to my supervisor assured me it was just a matter of filling in the paperwork. I had earned that position. But when the time came, I was passed over. Turns out the new boyfriend’s father was on the museum board and pulled some strings for his vindictive son. So I quit.”

“Good for you,” Kurt said firmly. 

Blaine smiled. “I looked around for work but, honestly, my heart wasn’t in it. Then Wes found the ad for Blue Lake and convinced me to come out here. I thought he was crazy. I was pretty much expecting some kind of hippie commune. But Marcy was just so kind and even though the job would be considered a step down career wise, I found myself agreeing to give it a try.”

“And are you glad you did?” Kurt asked.

“I’m glad I met you,” Blaine admitted.

“Me too,” Kurt said and leaned forward to kiss Blaine. It was just a simple peck on the lips, but it felt a lot more significant to both of them.

When Blaine sat back he smiled at Kurt. “I should probably go. We have a school group with six busloads of kids coming in tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Kurt said with slight disappointment. “Have dinner with me.”

“Okay,” Blaine said. “Name the night.”

“Would tomorrow be too soon?” Kurt asked. “I don’t want to appear too eager.”

Blaine chuckled and gave Kurt another kiss. “Tomorrow would be wonderful. And I like that you’re eager because so am I.”

BKBKBKBKBK

Kurt spent most of the next day in his studio, but his mind wasn't entirely on his work. Instead, his thoughts kept returning to Blaine. Their discussion the night before had been enlightening. And the kiss had been electrifying. So much so that Kurt had not wanted to stop. If Blaine hadn't been such a gentleman, Kurt likely would have thrown himself at him and damn the consequences. Kurt wasn't normally like that. His father had taught him to respect himself enough not to just throw his body around. But Blaine brought out a basic hunger in him that he had never felt before. 

Beyond that, however, they also connected on an intellectual and emotional level in a way Kurt had never experienced before. True, Kurt's romantic experiences had been limited, but he rather thought that it was unusual. 

Growing up in Lima Ohio, there hadn't been many opportunities to date as a gay teen. Then he had moved from there to this remote community, which was just as limiting because of its location, even if they were a lot more accepting of his sexuality. There had been a few men over the years, all of whom had been nice enough, but none of them had lasted very long simply because they could not imagine living at Blue Lake. They just didn't share the same ideals. 

And that was the one thing that truly worried Kurt. Blaine had come to Blue Lake to heal. He had made no secret of the fact that he wasn't really sure that this life was for him. Then again, he was at least open to the possibility. He had agreed to the six month trial. 

Cordelia was another aspect of Kurt's life that his infrequent boyfriends had never accepted. But Blaine seemed to dote on the little girl from the very first time they met. And Cordelia really liked Blaine in return. Kurt had always been wary of introducing Cordelia to his dates in the past, but he felt no hesitation when it came to Blaine. There was something about the man that made Kurt trust him, even with his precious daughter. Even if things didn’t work out between the two of them, he knew that Blaine would never do anything to hurt Delia.

“You’re thinking too hard.”

Kurt turned to find Puck standing in the doorway to his studio. “Is there such a thing?”

“Hell yes,” Puck insisted. “Lighten up Hummel. That pensive look on your face have anything to do with our new curator?”

“Perhaps,” Kurt said evasively as he turned back to his work and studied what he had accomplished so far. It wasn’t much. With a sigh, Kurt began to clean up his brushes and other supplies. “He’s…”

“Hot stuff?” Puck suggested. 

“That too,” Kurt said with a chuckle. 

Puck came over and picked up a few scraps of paper that Kurt was using in his latest collage. “Listen, I know it isn’t my business, but he seems like a nice guy. Unlike some of the jerks you’ve dated, I think he might actually be worth the trouble.”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Kurt admitted. “He’s coming over for dinner tonight.”

“Get some,” Puck said in a playfully lecherous voice that was followed by laughter from both men. It took a minute to get serious again. “Listen, you know I’ve got your back, so try not to worry too much.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of playing my bodyguard?” Kurt asked wryly.

“Nope,” Puck said. “I see it as penance for being such a douche to you when we were younger. Besides, you know I’m just sticking around until Delia is old enough to run off and elope with me.”

“Over my dead body,” Kurt said with a sweet smile. This was a conversation they’d had many times in the two years since Delia declared that she was going to marry Puck one day.

“Speaking of Delia, I’m meeting Shelby and Beth for dinner and wondered if I could drag Delia along,” Puck said. “Beth practically reamed me out the last time I showed up without her. I think she thinks they’re actually cousins or something.”

“Sure, as long as Delia is okay with it,” Kurt agreed. They both knew that Delia would love to see Beth. She looked up to the older girl and loved any chance to see her. “And you promise not to feed her too much sugar. Last time you took her to that fair she was up half the night with a stomach ache.”

“Awesome,” Puck said. “I promise: just dinner and dessert. I’ll stop by to pick her up at 5:30.”

BKBKBKBKBK

Puck was sitting on the sofa in Kurt’s living room while Kurt bustled around the kitchen and Delia ran around looking for her missing shoes when there was a knock at the cottage’s front door. Puck called out that he would get it and headed over to let Blaine in.

“Um, Puck, I thought…” Blaine looked thoroughly confused.

Puck grinned at him. “You’ve got the right place. Come on in.”

Blaine followed meekly behind the larger man and was relieved to see Kurt in the kitchen. The other man smiled at him and Blaine went over to the counter to offer the bottle of wine he had brought along.

“Thank you,” Kurt said as he accepted the gift. “Have a seat and get comfortable. Puck and Delia will be leaving shortly.”

Blaine did as he was told and took a seat on the sofa. Delia came over and gave him a hug before handing him her shoes and asking for help. Blaine was happy to comply with the young girl’s wishes and soon had her sneakers tied.

“We’re going to see Beth!” Delia announced.

“And we had better get going if we don’t want Shelby and Beth to be waiting for us,” Puck said. He had Delia’s jacket in his hands and helped her put it on. “Let’s go, squirt.”

“Bye Daddy!” Delia called out. “Bye Mr. Blaine.”

“Bye sweetie,” Kurt called back as his daughter and Puck left in a whirlwind of perpetual motion. He sighed when the door closed behind them.

“Who are Beth and Shelby?” Blaine asked with no small amount of curiosity.

“Puck had a daughter back when we were still in high school,” Kurt said. “Shelby is Beth’s adoptive mom. She’s been really great about letting Puck have a relationship with Beth. They live in Wheeling and Shelby teaches music at a high school there. Sometimes she and Puck agree to meet half way for dinner so that he can catch up with Beth. Over the years, Beth and Delia developed a close relationship, despite their age differences. I think it’s because they are both only children. It’s the closest to a sibling or cousin that either of them have.”

“That’s nice for them,” Blaine said. “I have a brother but we weren’t very close as kids. Probably because of the age difference. But we haven’t really been very close as adults either.”

“I have a step-brother,” Kurt said. “Our parents didn’t get married until we were juniors in high school, so we didn’t grow up together, but we’re really close now. Finn and Rachel live in New York, but they stop by to visit a few times a year.”

“That must be nice,” Blaine said a little wistfully. “I haven’t seen Cooper in… god, it’s been ten years.”

Kurt looked sympathetic, but didn’t respond. Instead he dished up their plates and handed them to Blaine. “Could you set these on the table while I open the wine?”

A few minutes later, they were both sitting down at the table and enjoying the fine meal that Kurt had prepared.

“This is wonderful,” Blaine said. “I would invite you over to return the favor, but you had the only thing I can cook at the potluck last night.”

“Well, you can take me out instead,” Kurt said flirtatiously.

“Now that I can do,” Blaine said with a smile. “So, tell me about Puck. He said he came here because of you and he seems really close with Delia. Is there… something there I should know about?”

Kurt laughed at that. “Me and Noah? Absolutely not. We’ve just been friends for a very long time. Though it wasn’t always that way.”

“What do you mean?” Blaine asked.

“Well, life in Lima Ohio was not kind to an openly gay boy,” Kurt said. “And Puck was one of the jocks who used to bully me. His favorite form of torture was tossing me into the dumpster outside of school.”

“That’s horrible,” Blaine said. “What changed?”

“Glee club,” Kurt said. “We all somehow ended up in glee club together. And it didn’t change overnight or anything, but eventually we all sort of became a family. We set aside past prejudices and really tried to support each other. We were such a diverse group. We had Finn and Puck and a couple other guys from the football team. Then there were three cheerleaders. And then there were the rest of us, all misfits. But music sort of brought us together and helped us get through some tough times. I’m not sure I would have survived high school without glee club.”

“I was in our glee club,” Blaine admitted. “The Dalton Academy Warblers. And you’re right; we were kind of like a family. I met my two best friends through the Warblers.”

“Wait, Dalton,” Kurt said thoughtfully. “I think we competed against you my junior year. We beat you, though and went on to nationals.”

“Wait, you said you were from Lima?” Blaine said. “I remember you guys. New Directions. You can’t imagine how many dirty jokes the guys made about your team’s name.”

“Oh, I bet I can,” Kurt said dryly. “So you were in the Warblers?”

“I was the front man,” Blaine said modestly.

Kurt grinned. “I remember you now! You used to use a ton of hair product, didn’t you?”

Blaine flushed. “Perhaps. And I may have worn contacts back then.”

Kurt reached out and ran his fingers through Blaine’s lightly tamed short curls. “I like your hair much better this way.”

“It takes a bit more work to tame it, but it is certainly less sticky,” Blaine admitted a little breathlessly as he enjoyed the feeling of Kurt’s fingers in his hair. He leaned into the touch like a cat looking to be petted. Kurt eventually reclaimed his hand and took a sip of his wine. Blaine cleared his throat. “So you were telling me about how Puck changed from homophobic jock to friend?”

Kurt blinked. “Yes. Um, well, like I said, glee club kind of drew us all together. Then all that shit happened with Karofsky and Puck and Finn both felt really guilty that they couldn’t do more to protect me. I kept telling them that there wasn’t anything they could have done, but… Anyway, Puck was really insistent about helping me with my rehabilitation and then when I moved to Blue Lake, we kept in touch. He was still trying to protect me, I guess. Because even then we didn’t have a lot in common." 

Kurt shook his head. "Puck had some crazy scheme to move his pool cleaning business to California, but it didn't pan out, so I told him about an opening here on the grounds keeping crew. Much to my surprise, he actually came and stayed. When the old head groundskeeper retired, Puck got the job."

"He and Cordelia seem close," Blaine said.

Kurt nodded and took another sip of wine. "Well, by the time Delia was born, he and I had really gotten close. There weren't very many people here our age back then, and we had a shared history that made up for our very obvious differences. He was with me through Kelly's death and helped me with Delia a lot in the early days. So I asked him to be her godfather. They've been thick as thieves ever since. In some ways, I think having Delia around somewhat makes up for not having Beth every day."

"Well, she seems like a very happy child," Blaine said.

"We're very lucky," Kurt said. "Even though this town is even smaller than the one where I grew up, there isn't the same closed-mindedness that made my childhood difficult. It's no secret that her dad is gay and Sheila and Karen are open about their relationship in the community. And there are actually other gays and lesbians raising children in the area. We even have a small support group. And none of our children have to face bullying or harassment at school. The school board has a strict policy in place to prevent bullying and they actually enforce it. While not everyone in the area supports homosexuality, at least they aren't openly homophobic, either. Andrew once told me that the relatively liberal community attitude was one of the reasons the founders chose this location."

"Andrew was one of the founders?" Blaine asked. "Why did he leave?"

"Well, he raised his family here," Kurt said. "But they all moved away after they grew up. When his oldest boy got married and his wife had a baby, Andrew decided to move to Chicago to be close to them. He's quite successful with his art, so he can more than afford to support himself away from here. If you worked at MOMA, I'm sure you must be familiar with his work. He has a few pieces in the permanent collection."

"Wait, you don't mean that Andrew is actually Andrew Mayerson?" Blaine asked. "He's one of the most influential contributors to pop art after Warhol. And you say you met him at an art fair?"

Kurt chuckled. "Yeah, Andrew is a bit eccentric. He likes just showing up at random art fairs. He says it keeps him close to the people."

"I read that he lived on an art commune when we studied his work in college," Blaine said with awe. "They never said which one. I'm not sure I would have pieced it together even if I had heard the name back then."

"He's not our only famous alumnus," Kurt said. "Jane Michaels and Darius Chalmers both got their start here. And Cassie Blakely was another one of the founders. She died about six months after I got here, but she was still working up until her last days."

Blaine shook his head. "I feel like I should have known that. I also feel like my art education was limited. I look at the work the artists do here, and I feel like I should have known them long before I came to Blue Lake."

Kurt shrugged. "Regional artists are often overlooked until they get national exposure. Even though the internet is breaking down some of those barriers, it's almost impossible to know every artist out there."

"But I worked at two different museums in Pittsburgh," Blaine said. "That's less than an hour away. I should have learned more about the artists in this region. The museums should have done more to educate the public about regional art. I know some of the Pittsburgh artists because they show in the galleries there, but outside the city..."

"Well, maybe that's why you're here," Kurt suggested. "With your connections, maybe you can give our little community a boost up in the art world. Make the Carnegie and Warhol Museums take note. Maybe even get some attention farther afield."

Blaine nodded distractedly. In his head, he was already considering a traveling exhibit and how he would interest some of the top museums. He would need to do more research on the history of the community and gather pieces to represent the various artists...

"Blaine?"

Blaine shook his head and gave Kurt an apologetic smile. "Sorry. I got lost in the possibilities."


	9. Death Threat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt, the son of Senator Burt Hummel, comes to Dalton for protection, along with his body guards: Puck, Sam and Matt. There he meets Blaine.

While his peers rushed from the dining hall to their first classes of the day, Blaine stood in the main foyer of Dalton Academy as he waited for the new kid to arrive. He wasn’t particularly pleased to have been assigned to be the student guide, but he couldn’t exactly tell Mr. Corning no. The school’s dean had chosen him specifically for this task and Blaine felt privileged that he thought so much of him. Of course it helped that they would actually share most of the same classes and that Kurt would be sharing a suite with Blaine. 

The timing was really bad, though. Blaine had recently broken up with his boyfriend of three months and was not really in the mood for socializing. Besides, it wasn’t just a one day thing. He would have to show the new kid—Kurt Hummel—around for at least a week and Blaine had responsibilities to the Warblers and the boxing club, not to mention the heavy course work that every student was expected to accomplish. 

Blaine checked his watch for the fifth time. The new kid was late. Mr. Corning had told him that the newest student at Dalton Academy would be arriving at 9am. It was now almost twenty minutes past. Blaine sighed. He should be in French right now and any time that he missed from that course made him nervous. He had a hard enough time keeping up when he was in class every day.

Just as he was considering giving up and asking the school secretary to call and see what was keeping Kurt Hummel, the heavy oak doors swung wide. In the bright late-September sunlight shining in from the outside, Blaine could only see in silhouette at first, but he could see that there were actually three people, rather than just the one he had been expecting. And then the doors shut behind them and in the dimness, Blaine got his first look at the boy he would be showing around for the next week.

Kurt Hummel was nothing like Blaine had imagined. Blaine had been told a little about the boy’s situation: he was the only son of Senator Burt Hummel, who had made a fortune with his chain of tire and lube shops. He also knew that Kurt had been the top of his class in his previous school, but had been bullied and faced death threats from some of Burt Hummel’s craziest constituents. And Blaine, like every other resident of Ohio was familiar with the gruff exterior of their most prominent senator. But none of that had prepared Blaine for the vision of Kurt Hummel.

The boy looked like he had stepped out of the pages of Tolkien’s Rings Trilogy. He could have been Legolas’ brother with his fine features and brilliant blue-green eyes. He was willowy walked with a grace that Blaine could only envy. He was the most beautiful boy Blaine had ever seen.

When Blaine was finally able to tear his eyes away from his new charge, he noted that one of the men with Kurt was his father and the other… Blaine had no idea who that man was. He was tall, built like a body builder, and had his hair shaved into a Mohawk. Though he wore a suit like Burt Hummel, he was obviously uncomfortable in it. In truth, Blaine rather thought the guy looked like a schoolyard bully. 

“Senator Hummel,” Blaine said as he stepped forward to greet the group. “I’m Blaine Anderson. I’ve been assigned to show Kurt around the school this week.”

Blaine wouldn’t normally be so formal when greeting a new student—in fact, he would normally ignore a student’s parents and speak directly to the boy—but his strict training in deportment dictated that he treat a man of Burt Hummel’s position in a certain way. Burt Hummel reached out a hand and shook Blaine’s with a strength that belied his position as a politician. It was obvious that the man had spent many years working with his hands and probably still did when he could get away from the office.

“Good to meet you, son,” the Senator said. “This here is my boy, Kurt and that’s Noah Puckerman. He’ll be watching out for Kurt.” 

Blaine smiled and shook both Kurt’s and Noah Puckerman’s hands in turn, though he lingered a little longer with Kurt than he had with either of the other two men. “Let me show you to the office and we can get Kurt’s paperwork out of the way and then Kurt and I can head for our first class.”

Blaine showed them to the office where Mr. Corning was waiting. He seemed to be as surprised to see the Senator and the other man as Blaine had been. Senator Hummel, however, simply asked the boys to wait outside while he spoke with the dean alone. Blaine glanced at Kurt and gave him a small smile. Kurt, who had up until that point remained silent and expressionless, lifted his brows.

“What?” Kurt asked.

Blaine shook his head, his smile never faltering. “Nothing. Just… Welcome to Dalton.”

“Hmm,” Kurt hummed.

A moment later, the door to Mr. Corning’s office opened and the two men stepped out. “Well, now, let me just get Kurt’s schedule and room assignment.” He handed a blue folder embossed with the Dalton crest to Kurt. “Blaine, you and Kurt can head to class now. Senator Hummel has assured me that he will take care of moving Kurt’s things to the dormitory.”

Blaine smiled and nodded. “Yes, sir.” He turned to Kurt. “Ready to go?”

Kurt hesitated and turned to his father. They shared a long look and then Kurt rushed over to him. There were a few whispered words as the burly man embraced his son. When Kurt turned away, there were tears on his face and that of his father. It was the most emotion Blaine had seen the boy express since arriving. 

Kurt wiped the tears from his face and in seconds his mask of indifference was back in place. “I’m ready now.”

Blaine led the way out of the office and down the hall. As they walked, Blaine explained a little about the layout of the school. Kurt seemed to hardly hear him, so Blaine figured he would have to repeat himself later. They were about halfway to the classroom when Blaine noted that they weren’t alone. Noah Puckerman was following them.

Blaine leaned a little closer to Kurt and whispered. “Um, that guy is following us.”

Kurt’s mouth quirked up in to a semblance of a smirk. “He’s my bodyguard. Well, one of them. You’ll meet Sam and Matt later.”

Blaine took in that information and let it solidify in his head for a minute. “Are they new?”

“No,” Kurt said. “They’ve been with me for a while. At my last school, they were sort of undercover as students. They actually joined glee club with me. But Puck refused to lose the Mohawk, so there was no way he could go incognito here. Besides, with the death threats, Matt thought it was a good idea to have a more visible presence.”

Blaine hesitated to ask his next question. “Um, Mr. Corning said that part of the reason you were transferring was because of bullying. How is that possible if… if you have three bodyguards?”

Kurt actually blushed. “It was my fault. I… I don’t always like to have my every move watched, and since they were technically students like me, they couldn’t be as obvious about following me. So I would sneak off… a lot.” He shrugged. “I got cornered a couple times, but it wasn’t too bad. But then the death threats started and it was too much for my dad. So here I am in this gilded cage where they can control who gets to me.”

“It’s not so bad here,” Blaine said quietly. “I feel a lot safer here than I did at my last school.”

“Bullying?” Kurt asked sympathetically.

Blaine nodded. “After a Sadie Hawkins dance. I asked my friend, the only other out boy at our school, to go with me. Some homophobic jocks cornered us and we both ended up in the hospital. Josh’s parents sent him to live with his aunt in California after he was released. My parents sent me here.”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt murmured.

Blaine forcibly brightened his demeanor. “It’s okay. I’m here now and I love this school. I have some great friends here, and we have a great glee club. You should audition.”

“Maybe I will,” Kurt said.

They arrived at the class and Blaine said, “Well, here we are. Madame Delacroix’s Advanced French 3. I really hope you’re better at French than I am.”

KBKBKBKBKB

Kurt, as it turned out, was quite fluent in French. Madam Delacroix had practically purred when Kurt began speaking to her in French from the moment they walked through the door and with a flawless accent. After French, the two boys had AP Calculus A and it was Blaine’s turn to show off a little as Kurt struggled. His class at McKinley hadn’t been as advanced and Kurt wasn’t as good with mathematics as he was with languages. 

After Calculus, they had a thirty minute break and Blaine led Kurt to the small cafe where Kurt ordered a no-fat mocha latte and Blaine got a medium drip. They found an empty table near the windows and had a seat.

“They certainly didn’t give us lattes at McKinley,” Kurt said happily as he sipped at his drink.

“See, it’s not so bad here,” Blaine said cheerfully. “You’ll love it in no time.”

“I think I might except for two things,” Kurt said.

“What two things?” Blaine asked.

Kurt let a small smirk form on his lips. “First, these uniforms need serious help. I don’t mind any of the pieces individually, but red and navy and gray all together is really depressingly bland and stifles my creative fashion sense.”

Blaine chuckled at that, but had to agree. “Well, we don’t have to wear the uniform 24/7. We do get to change in the evenings and on weekends. So what’s the second thing?”

“I miss my friends,” Kurt said quietly. “I didn’t have many, but the ones I did have…”

Blaine reached a hand out and squeezed Kurt’s hand across the table. “I’m sorry.”

Kurt glanced at their hands and gave Blaine a shy smile. “Thanks. I… I didn’t have a lot of friends before glee club. I was always different, even before I came out. That didn’t gain me a lot of friends in a town like Lima.”

“Well, you’ll make loads of friends here,” Blaine said confidently. “Especially if you decide to join the Warblers.”

“Are you considering auditioning for the Warblers?”

Kurt and Blaine glanced up to find that there were several boys standing around them. They soon seated themselves at the table. And Blaine began making formal introductions. “Everyone, this is Kurt Hummel. Kurt, this is Wes, David, Nick, Jeff, Thad and Trent. They’re all in the Warblers, too.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Kurt.” Nick said politely and then lowered his voice to a whisper. “Has anyone noticed the scary guy in the suit over there staring at us?”

Blaine chuckled and Kurt smirked. “That’s Puck. He’s my bodyguard.”

“One of three,” Blaine informed them. “Though I haven’t met the other two as of yet.”

“You can just ignore him,” Kurt said. “I do.”

“I’m not sure it’s possible to ignore a guy like that,” Trent muttered. “He’s massive. He could squash us all like bugs.”

Kurt rolled his eyes and then turned to where Puck was watching nearby. “Puck? Can you come over here?”

Puck pushed off the wall and sauntered over. “S’up, dude?”

Kurt’s eyes narrowed and he gave Puck a bitch face. “I thought we discussed you not calling me dude.”

“Whatever, dude,” Puck said with a shrug. 

Kurt sighed. “Puck, I’d like to introduce you to some of my classmates. They seem to find your presence a bit intimidating.”

Puck smirked at that. “I do have some massive guns. And a massive gun.”

“Keep your gun in its holster,” Kurt instructed with a huff. “Just tell them that you aren’t going to squash them like bugs.”

Puck shrugged again. “As long as you don’t hurt Kurt, no one dies.”

“Or gets maimed,” Kurt pressed.

“Or gets maimed,” Puck agreed reluctantly. He wandered back to his strategic position by the wall and Kurt turned back to the other boys.

“He’s nice enough,” Kurt said. “Though a bit crude at times. And at least he’s good looking.”

“What about the other two?” Blaine wondered.

“They’re both pretty hot as well, but not as hot as Puck,” Kurt said. “And Sam has a dreadful habit of doing impressions. Matt’s their boss, but he’s pretty quiet. He almost never talks unless it has to do with my safety. Now, enough about them. Tell me more about the Warblers.”

For the next several minutes, the boys gushed about their glee club. They told Kurt about the council that ran the group, currently led by Wes, David and Thad. They talked about the performances that they already had scheduled. And they talked about their competition record. 

“We haven’t made it to Nationals in almost a decade,” Trent said. “There was a time when the Warblers were there almost every year. But now…”

“But we are going to change that,” Wes declared. “We will be going to Nationals this year and we will win!”

The warning bell rang and everyone rushed to gather their bags and jackets before heading out. Once Kurt and Blaine were alone and heading for their English class, Blaine said, “The council are all seniors and Wes is determined to get a Nationals win before he graduates. He can be a little intense.”

Kurt chuckled. “I’ll say.”

KBKBKBKBKB

The rest of the day seemed to fly by. Kurt and Blaine separated for two periods, but Blaine walked Kurt to his class before heading off to his own and showed up not long after the bell each time. They ate lunch in the dining hall and Kurt met a few more of the Warblers. Then they finished up their afternoon classes.

“Warblers have rehearsals on Monday, Wednesday and Friday afternoons,” Blaine told Kurt as they walked from their final class of the day. “I have to go there now, but you could come along and observe. Maybe it’ll help you decide to join. And then afterward, I can show you the rest of campus and the dorms. Otherwise, I can find someone to show you over to our dormitory and you can just unpack or something.”

“I’m sure that’s been taken care of,” Kurt said. “My step-mother Carole and our housekeeper were supervising the move while Sam, Matt, my step-brother Finn, and my dad were supposed to do the heavy lifting. I doubt that Carole or Anita left before the room was completely unpacked.”

“Good,” Blaine said with a grin. “Then you have no reason not to come see what we do. Come on, or we’ll be late.”

Blaine took Kurt’s hand and the two boys ran through the halls of Dalton towards the Warbler’s rehearsal room. When they arrived, the room was already filled with other Warblers. Kurt noted that their rehearsal room was nothing like the one at McKinley. The polished wood panel walls and leather sofas were a lot better than the hard plastic chairs and cinderblock walls Kurt was used to. Blaine led Kurt to one of the sofas and let him sit before going up to where the rest of the Warblers were standing preparing to rehearse. 

When they began to sing Teenage Dream, Kurt felt a small shiver run through him. Blaine’s voice was incredible and the sheer talent that these boys displayed as they harmonized and lent rhythm with only their voices amazed Kurt. He had loved the New Directions and was very proud of how far they had come in so short a time, but the Warblers were something else entirely. 

Kurt clapped when the group finished singing and Blaine smiled at Kurt. “So? Does that mean you want to audition?”

“I do,” Kurt said firmly. 

“Okay then,” Wesley said in his authoritarian voice. “We’ll schedule an audition for Friday’s rehearsal.

KBKBKBKBKB

Blaine and Kurt walked around campus after rehearsal but they had a different shadow this time. “Which one is that?” Blaine asked as they crossed the perfectly landscaped campus.

“That’s Sam,” Kurt said. “Matt prefers the overnight shift.”

“Because he doesn’t like to talk to people?” Blaine guessed.

“Probably,” Kurt shrugged. “So, tell me what all these buildings are.”

The Dalton campus was mostly centered around two features: the green and the fountain. The main building was at the top of the green with Ashman and Rollins flanking either side. Right in the middle of everything, separating the green from the fountain, was the ivy covered library. Then, flanking the fountain, were Qing and Jamison. The field house was off to the east of Jamison, in its own area of campus. To the south of the fountain, the dormitories were located. Two dorms, Gregory and Bergan, faced the fountain and two dorms, Garvin and Boyden, faced the woods surrounding the campus. There were about 200 acres of property altogether.

Blaine chuckled. “Okay, well, you’ve seen most of the main building. That’s where the Warblers’ room is and the administrative offices, the auditorium, a couple study rooms, the ballroom and the dining room. You’ve also seen the Rollins and Ashman buildings.”

“Rollins is liberal arts and Ashman is science and math,” Kurt said. “And the café is in Ashman.”

“Right,” Blaine said with a smile. “See, you’re catching on. Now, up ahead there is the Qing building. That’s where all the fine and performing arts classes are held.”

“So why are the Warblers not in that building?” Kurt wondered as they made a turn to continue around the edge of the green.

Blaine shrugged. “I have no idea. It probably goes back to the time when there was only the main building and the dormitory. The Warblers were always in that room. I guess when they built the Qing building they just decided not to mess with tradition. Besides, I think the staff likes to listen to us practice.”

Kurt chuckled. “You are so modest.”

“Can I help it if I’m extremely talented and irresistibly handsome?” Blaine said with an exaggerated smile. “Now this is the library. It was named after someone too, but no one ever uses the name. It’s just the library. And over there is Jamison. That’s where more they have things like home ec and shop class. There’s a photography lab there and… I’m not sure what else.”

“I guess you don’t spend a lot of time there,” Kurt said.

Blaine shrugged. “We all have to take at least one applied skills course for graduation. I took auto shop last year so I could at least do basic repairs to my car if I get stranded on a deserted road somewhere and my cell phone is dead.”

“And I’m sure that’s the only time you would even think of touching the hood of your car,” Kurt smirked.

“Absolutely,” Blaine said with an unrepentant grin. They had continued heading east away from the main part of campus until a huge building was before them. “Now this is one of my favorite buildings: the field house. We have indoor pools for diving and swimming, a gymnasium, several smaller rooms that are used for clubs like fencing, boxing and wrestling, plus the main weight room. But my favorite part is the sauna in the locker room.”

“Now that I could go for,” Kurt said. “Sweating out all the impurities that mar the complexion sounds heavenly.”

“Thought you might like that,” Blaine said as he turned around to head back towards the fountain. “We can explore a couple buildings each afternoon this week, if you like. And you’ll see the field house tomorrow because we both have physical education on Tuesdays and Thursdays. This quarter we’re doing fencing.”

“Hmm, playing with swords and literally cutting a person down rather than just figuratively,” Kurt said. “I think I’ll enjoy that a lot more than dodge ball.”

“Dodge ball was banned about forty years ago at Dalton,” Blaine said. “That was about the same time they instituted the no bullying policy, long before the rest of the world even thought it might be a problem. Anyway, if you like fencing in class, you might think about joining the fencing team. There are about thirty different clubs and teams to choose from. Of course, Warblers take up a lot of time, but most of us belong to at least one other club as well.”

“What other club do you belong to?” Kurt asked.

“Boxing,” Blaine said. “I fight in the welterweight class.”

“I guess that means you spend a lot of time in the weight room,” Kurt said. “I’m not a huge fan of weights. I prefer to get my exercise in more… civilized ways.”

Blaine grinned. “Let me guess, yoga?”

“Yes, and dance,” Kurt said. “Though it isn’t my preferred method of exercise, Puck has been teaching me Tai Kwan Do and he makes me go running every day. He has the morning shift so this way he can get some exercise and still keep an eye on me. And I get the benefit of getting in better shape and hopefully being able to defend myself so that I won’t need people following me around for the rest of my life.”

“Running is my least favorite part of training,” Blaine admitted. “It’s really hard to get motivated to get out of bed that early.”

“You could run with us,” Kurt said. “I’m sure that Puck won’t mind.”

“Maybe I will,” Blaine said. They had reached a fork in the path and Blaine led them around the manmade lake. The fountain in the center was a sculpture of Apollo on his golden chariot. Blaine noticed Kurt looking and said, “That sculpture is a half-size replica of the one at Versailles. Every year, after graduation, the seniors all roll up their pant legs and graduation gowns and wade to the center of the lake to have a picture taken with Apollo. It’s only about two feet deep, even in the center.”

They turned another turn and the dorms came into view. “I thought you said there was only one dorm?”

“No, I don’t think I did,” Blaine said with a small frown. “But if I gave that impression, I apologize. There are four dorms, one for each year.”

“Does that mean we’ll be in another dorm next year?” Kurt frowned.

“No,” Blaine chuckled. “We stay in the same building as long as we’re here. But when the seniors in Bergen Hall graduate in the spring, the new class will take their place next fall.”

“Oh,” Kurt said. “So I’ll be in Gregory Hall for both years I’m here?”

“That’s right,” Blaine said. He led the way into their dormitory and held the door for Kurt and Sam. “I don’t know if Mr. Corning told you or not, but you and I will be sharing a suite. Our suite is on the fourth floor, and we have a great view of the Apollo fountain.”

They took the elevator up to their floor and Blaine led the way to their door. Once inside, Kurt was actually rather impressed. The door from the hallway led to a decent sized sitting room complete with a small kitchenette that had a refrigerator, sink, and a microwave oven. There was no oven or stove, but Kurt saw that there was a nice toaster oven on the counter. He could probably use that to bake if he got stressed. There was a small table and chairs on one side of the room and a sitting area with a sofa, armchair and small entertainment center and TV on the other side of the room.

There were two doors that led from the sitting area and Blaine said, “That one is your room and this is mine. If you want to get changed for dinner, you can. We don’t have to wear the uniform in the evenings, but a lot of people do, simply because it’s easier.”

“Thanks,” Kurt said as he headed toward his room and then paused to let Sam pass. Sam went in first and did a quick sweep of the space to make sure it was safe before heading back to the sitting room. Kurt sighed. “I think I will change.”

“Okay, dinner starts at 6:30, so you’ve got just under an hour,” Blaine said. “If I’m not out here when you’re ready, just knock on my door.”

Kurt waved and headed into his bedroom. He found that he had been right Carole and Anita had unpacked his things, all but the single box that he had sealed shut and labeled private. He found that box still sealed on his desk and moved it under his bed. Unlike most dorm rooms that Kurt had seen or heard about, this room had a double bed. It wasn’t as nice as his queen bed at home but it was a lot better than the single Kurt had expected. And he was glad that they didn’t have to share rooms. He had tried that with Finn for a very brief time while their house in DC was being renovated and it had been a disaster.

Kurt opened the two other doors in his room and found that they led to his bathroom and walk in closet. He was glad to see that his wardrobe had survived the move with little damage. There were a few wrinkles but nothing that couldn’t be fixed with a good steam or an iron. And Anita had organized his clothes just the way he liked them. It was weird to see several identical blazers, pants and shirts in his closet, but he supposed he would get used to it. He quickly selected an outfit and brought it into the bathroom with him. The steam from a shower would work as well as his steamer.

KBKBKBKBKB

Sam was doing a number of impressions for Blaine when Kurt returned to the sitting room 45 minutes later. Kurt held back a groan. He really was not all that impressed with Sam’s impressions, but Blaine was listening politely. That boy was entirely too polite for his own good.

“Sam, leave Blaine alone,” Kurt scolded. “He doesn’t need to hear every impression in the first hour of your acquaintance.”

“Sorry Kurt,” Sam said and he looked a bit like a kicked puppy.

“It’s fine,” Blaine said. “I rather liked the Batman one.”

Sam beamed. “I guess it’s time for dinner?”

“It is,” Blaine agreed. “Back to the main building.”

A few minutes later they were on their way back across campus and Kurt thought of something. “What happens if there’s a blizzard or something and you can’t get across campus for meals?”

“Well, we all have the option of eating breakfast in our suites if we want on any day,” Blaine said. “Once a week, we can order supplies from a list: things like bread, butter, cereal, milk, tea, coffee, juice, fruit and even jam. Plus we usually buy some stuff that school doesn’t supply at the grocery store for snacks and such. So most of us have some food available for short term emergencies. We’ve only been stuck inside for longer than a morning one time since I started at Dalton. Then they delivered our meals to the common room downstairs.”

“How long did that last?” Kurt wondered.

“Two days,” Blaine said. “You remember that huge ice storm last winter?”

“Oh yeah,” Kurt said. “We were without power for three days. It was a good thing my dad invested in a generator.”

“The school has generators for the main building and the dorms,” Blaine said. “But they limit how much power we can use and they only power certain areas and things. All the refrigerators had power but we didn’t have lights in our rooms. Each room has an emergency lantern in the closet for when we were in ours rooms, but it got boring sitting alone in the dark. We all ended up watching movies in the common room most of the time we were confined.”

“How’s the food?” Sam asked. 

Kurt turned to him, “Well, lunch was a lot better than anything they ever served at McKinley.”

“It’s actually very good,” Blaine said. “And they try to serve a variety of choices each meal so if you don’t like one thing, maybe you’ll like another. Plus, there’s always the salad bar, soup and dessert.”

“There’s even a frozen yogurt machine,” Kurt said wryly.

“No slushies?” Sam asked warily.

“No slushies,” Kurt agreed. “And even if they did, they would have to drink them or risk getting expelled.”

“I think I’m missing something,” Blaine said. “Slushies?”

Kurt huffed. “They had a slushie machine at McKinley and the jocks took great pleasure in using them to torture those they didn’t like.”

“That shit stings the eyes,” Sam said. 

“It's like being bitch-slapped by an iceberg. Not to mention the fact that the syrup stains clothes,” Kurt said mournfully. “I can’t count the number of outfits that were lost to slushie attacks.” 

“No one throws anything at anyone here,” Blaine said carefully. “And I’m now rather glad I never went to McKinley.”

“Count yourself lucky,” Sam agreed. “My high school sucked, but not as hard as McKinley.”

They reached the main building and Sam naturally fell back away from them to get a better vantage point. He did go through the food line, but not until Kurt and Blaine were already seated and he could keep an eye on Kurt while he grabbed his food. Like Puck, he took a seat at a table nearby with a view of the entire room and watched everyone in the room while he scarfed down his food.

“Sam seems nice enough,” Blaine said while they ate.

“He’s the newest of the three,” Kurt said. “He only started over the summer. Matt felt like he was too old to keep playing a high school guy, so he ‘transferred to another school’ and Sam came in to take his place. Of course, Sam was only at McKinley for a few weeks. Ask Puck about the horrors of McKinley and you’ll hear some stories.”

“How old are these guys?” Blaine asked.

“They’re all in their twenties,” Kurt said. “They’ve all be trained extensively in personal protection. And they’ve all spent some time in the military.”

Blaine chuckled at that. “Even Puck?”

“He says he was scarred by the experience,” Kurt said with a smirk. “The hair is his way of reclaiming his individuality.”

“Ah,” Blaine said. “I expect that it would be rather difficult for someone so… unique to conform.”

“It is,” Kurt sighed.

Blaine hadn’t been talking about Kurt, but he realized that it had to be just as difficult for Kurt being at Dalton where everyone dressed the same and, for the most part, acted the same. If the outfit Kurt was wearing currently—red combat boots, gray skinny jeans, a white button-down shirt, silver vest, a red suit jacket with more buckles than all of Blaine’s belts combined and a silver skull brooch—was any indication, then Kurt expressed his individuality through fashion.

“I love what you’re wearing,” Blaine complimented his new friend a little belatedly. “And just think how much more impact this outfit has after wearing the uniform all day.”

Kurt picked at his salad as he considered that. “I suppose you have a point. I have noticed that a lot of the other students have been watching us since we sat down. And it isn’t because I’m the new kid, because they barely noticed me at lunch.”

Their conversation turned towards other topics by necessity after that since several of the Warblers arrived to join them. Kurt watched Blaine interact with the other boys and realized that after just one day, he already felt like this boy was one of his best friends. There was something about Blaine that invited him to open up to him. And it wasn’t just the fact that he was the first openly gay boy he had ever met. And it wasn’t just that he was handsome and charming and exceedingly talented. There was something else, something deeper. Kurt couldn’t put a name on it, but he definitely knew that he wanted it to continue.

KBKBKBKBKB

After dinner, Kurt had settled in to do some of the homework and make-up work he had been assigned. Blaine had offered to help, but Kurt knew that he wouldn’t have too much trouble. Besides, he wasn’t going to try and catch up with every class on the first night. He just didn’t want to wind up even further behind. Sam was relegated to the sitting room while Kurt worked in his bedroom. 

Blaine, on the other hand, quickly finished the little bit of homework he had and then joined Sam in the sitting room. Since there wasn’t much on TV that evening, they ended up playing Call of Duty until Blaine realized how late it was and headed for bed.

The next morning, Blaine was woken by a light knock on his door. He stumbled from his bed, hair sticking up in all directions, and blearily opened the door to find Puck standing there.

“Dude, Kurt said you might want to run with us?” Puck said. “We’re leaving in five minutes.”

Blaine blinked at Puck for a minute while he tried to get his sleep-fogged brain to process that. “Um, yeah. Just… let me throw on some… yeah.”

Blaine shut the door on the amused face of Noah Puckerman and quickly threw on a pair of jogging pants, a t-shirt, and his running shoes. When he stepped out into the sitting room, he found Puck and Kurt waiting for him. They were all quiet as they headed down to the front hall. Once there, Puck made them all do the proper stretches before he would let them outside.

“Matt doesn’t want us leaving campus,” Puck informed Kurt as they started off. “But I did a little recon and the campus is large enough that we should be able to get in a decent run without doing too many laps.”

“The running path along the exterior walls is actually pretty decent,” Blaine said. Now that he was out in the cool morning air, he was waking up. “And I think it’s about a mile.”

“1.7,” Puck said. “So, a couple times around the perimeter broken up by a couple laps on the campus road should get us to our usual 5 miles. Then we’ll get to the really fun stuff.”

Kurt groaned. “I’m not sure what your definition of fun is, but none of this qualifies as fun in my book.”

After that, they were all mostly silent as they followed Puck’s lead. For all of his complaining, it was obvious that Kurt was in really good shape. Blaine didn’t have any trouble keeping up, but he was definitely more winded than either of the other two when they finally slowed to a walk approaching the dorm. 

Rather than heading back inside right away, Blaine stayed to stretch with the other two and then watched for a few minutes as Puck and Kurt started practice tai-chi. The slow graceful movements seemed incongruous for a guy like Puck, but he was very good and corrected Kurt’s posture a couple of times. When they started in on the tai kwon do, Blaine gave up his voyeurism and headed into the small weight room in the basement of the dorm. It wasn’t as nice as the big weight room at the field house, but it was a lot more convenient.

He met back up with the other two on their way upstairs. Soon they were all rushing to get ready for the day. Blaine wasn’t sure, but he figured that Puck must have used Kurt’s shower, because he was clean and dressed when Blaine emerged from his room. Puck wasn’t wearing a suit this time. Instead, he wore jeans, a button-down shirt, and a sports jacket. Blaine wondered why he bothered with the jacket, until he caught a glimpse of the gun holster. Right. 

“Where do you put your gun when you run?” Blaine asked out of nowhere.

Puck smirked. “I have an ankle holster.”

“Right,” Blaine said and then shook his head. “Kurt about ready?”

“Two more minutes of fixing his hair,” Puck said. “And then three minutes for a last minute check of the outfit. Assuming it passes, he’ll be out in five minutes. He’s pretty consistent. You could almost set a watch by the kid.”

“What happens if the outfit doesn’t pass?” Blaine wondered.

Puck shrugged. “With this uniform? I have no idea. In the past, it might mean starting from scratch and skipping breakfast.”

“You seem like you know him pretty well,” Blaine said.

“I’ve been guarding his ass for more than two years now,” Puck shrugged. “Matt’s been around longer, but he keeps his distance. Sam just started.”

“Did… um… Kurt have many friends at his old school?” Blaine asked. Then he shook his head. “No, don’t answer that. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Puck smirked at him. “You are just too polite to be real. And it seems like you and Kurt are getting along great. I’m sure that he’ll tell you himself if you ask.” Puck paused to think for a minute. “You know, he doesn’t really open up very easy to people. But it seems like you might be an exception.”

Blaine thought about that. “He’s told me bits and pieces of things; I guess I’m just trying to fit all those pieces together.”

“Could take a lifetime,” Puck warned. “That is one complicated kid.”

“I resemble that remark,” Kurt said from the doorway to his bedroom. “Now, if we don’t leave immediately, we’ll be late for breakfast, and I’m famished after that torture session this morning.”

Blaine didn’t have time to worry about how much of his conversation with Puck Kurt had overheard as he rushed to keep up with the chestnut-haired boy.

KBKBKBKBKB

Kurt was a natural fencer; or at least that’s what their phys-ed instructor said later that day. And Kurt seemed to really enjoy the sport. Considering how little he enjoyed most sports, that was saying something. Though the instructor attempted to get Kurt to join the club, however, Kurt remained evasive. He wanted to see what other options were available before making up his mind. With Warblers taking up so much time, he knew that he would really only have time for one other activity.

Blaine had boxing after class, so Kurt headed back to the dorms with just Sam for company. He changed into more comfortable attire and then got a start on his homework, but after two hours, he was getting restless. So he put the work away for a while and pulled out his phone. A few quick texts to his old friends from McKinley let him know that they were all busy that afternoon as well. With a sigh, he grabbed his jacket and headed out.

“Where are we going?” Sam asked as they headed outside.

Kurt shrugged. “I have no idea, but I couldn’t… I just needed to get out for a while.”

“Gotcha,” Sam said. “We could explore some of the other buildings on campus. I know Blaine said he’d show you later, but it wouldn’t hurt to check them out.”

Kurt shrugged again, but headed for the Qing building. Once inside, he noted that despite the late hour, there were still a lot of students around. As they walked through the hall, they saw some students who were obviously in some sort of art club. There were musicians practicing in several practice rooms. But what caught Kurt’s attention were the boys and girls in the dance studio. He paused outside the doorway to watch them for a few minutes. They were apparently working on a modified tango set to the Moulin Rouge version of “Roxanne”. Kurt was mesmerized.

“You could go in,” Sam said, startling Kurt from his reverie.

Kurt hesitated, but then nodded. They entered the room and stood to the side and watched the rest of the rehearsal. Kurt had taken some ballroom dance classes and even had a few years of ballet before his mother died, but most of the dancing he had done recently had been learned from watching music videos and trying to emulate the dancers. He loved to dance, but his father had never been big on the idea and Kurt had not wanted to push the idea on him. Things had been tough enough after his mother died and before Burt met and married Carole.

Once the rehearsal broke up, the teacher came over to them and Kurt introduced himself. 

KBKBKBKBKB

Kurt spent most of Tuesday evening after dinner selecting a song to use for his audition for the Warblers. Blaine had tried to be helpful, but his advice tended towards Katy Perry and P!nk. That was fine for him, but it just wouldn’t do for Kurt. A call to Rachel Berry, the diva from his old school, had netted him the suggestion of “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina.” It was perfect for his voice and he loved that song, but he wasn’t sure it was right for the Warblers. So he spent a lot of time just going through the songs on his iTunes library. Eventually, he found the song that he thought would be perfect for both himself and the Warblers.

Wednesday, Kurt let Blaine go to Warblers rehearsal without him and spent that entire afternoon practicing for his audition. He even got Sam to sing backup vocals and play the guitar. Thursday afternoon, Kurt went to his first ever dance club meeting. The instructor had told him that since they didn’t compete, they didn’t require their members to be proficient dancers when they joined. They would work with him to help him improve. The club was a joint effort between Dalton and Crawford Country Day, their sister school, which explained the presence of the girls in the club. It was a lot of hard work, but for once, Kurt didn’t mind. In fact, he was happy that he was in shape because it made the whole grueling practice bearable. And when it was over, he left with a smile on his face. 

Finally, Friday rolled around and Kurt was nervous all day, despite Blaine’s attempts to reassure him. The truth was that Kurt had never sung for anyone except his old glee club. He knew his voice was okay, but he had never gotten a solo for competition, or even for one of the little shows they did for the school. Sure everyone seemed to like his songs in glee club but that didn’t really mean anything in the wider world. 

By the time Wes called him up to sing, Kurt was a complete and utter mess. The only things that kept him from running from the room were Sam’s presence beside him and Blaine’s warm and encouraging smile in front of him. He concentrated on those things as he introduced himself.

“I’m Kurt Hummel and I’ll be performing ‘All That We Let In by the Indigo Girls.’” He turned to Sam and the blond man began playing the opening measures. Kurt closed his eyes for a moment and let the music flow over and through him. When he opened his eyes, he began to sing:

Oooooooo  
Oooooooo  
Oooooooo

Dust in our eyes our own boots kicked up  
Heartsick we nursed along the way we picked up  
You may not see it when it's sticking to your skin  
But we're better off for all that we let in

Lost friends and loved ones much too young  
So much promises and work left undone  
When all that guards us is a single centerline  
And the brutal crossing over when it's time

Oooooooo  
(I don't know where it all begins)  
Oooooooo  
(And I don't know where it all will end)  
Oooooooo  
(We're better off for all that we let in)

One day those toughies will be withered up and bent  
The father son the holy warriors and the president  
With glory days of put up dukes for all the world to see  
Beaten into submission in the name of the free

We're in an evolution I have heard it said  
Everyone's so busy now but do we move ahead  
The planets hurting and atoms splitting  
And a sweater for your love you sit there knitting

Oooooooo  
(I don't know where it all begins)  
Oooooooo  
(And I don't know where it all will end)  
Oooooooo  
(We're better off for all that we let in)

See those crosses on the side of the road  
Tied with ribbons in the medium  
They make me grateful I can go this far  
Lay me down and never wake me up again

Kat writes a poem and she sticks it on my truck  
We don't believe in war and we don't believe in luck  
The birds were calling to her what were they saying  
As the gate blew open the tops of the trees were swaying

I've passed the cemetery walk my dog down there  
I read the names in stone and say a silent prayer  
When I get home you're cooking supper on the stove  
And the greatest gift of life is to know love

Oooooooo  
(I don't know where it all begins)  
Oooooooo  
(And I don't know where it all will end)  
Oooooooo  
(We're better off for all that we let in)

The room was silent as Sam strummed the final chords of the song and Kurt held his breath as he waited for the reaction of the club. Then, almost at once, everyone was clapping and cheering. Kurt blushed and did a little curtsy but inside, he was thrilled by the response. And the cheering continued for a few moments even after Kurt retook his seat beside Blaine on the sofa up front.

Wes, still seated behind the council’s table, banged his gavel to regain control of the room. “We’ll now vote on inviting Kurt Hummel to join the Warblers. All in favor?” Kurt couldn’t bear to look around. “All opposed?” Again, Kurt kept his eyes diverted. “The vote is unanimous. Welcome to the Warblers, Kurt.”

“Perhaps the council will entertain a motion to include Kurt’s audition solo as one of our songs for sectionals?” The voice wasn’t any of the Warblers that Kurt had met yet and he turned to see who it was.

“Excellent suggestion, Warbler Kevin,” David said. 

“If anyone would volunteer to work on the arrangements?” Thad asked. Several hands went up and their names were noted. “We’ll need a viable arrangement by a week from Monday if we are going to have enough time to prepare for competition.”

“Now, on to the selection of the other two songs for our sectionals set list,” Wes said. “The council will entertain suggestions at this time.”

For the next hour, they discussed possible songs and soloists. Kurt didn’t really pay that much attention, since he was still reeling over the idea that he would be singing a solo for sectionals.

“So, the potential songs have been narrowed to ‘Tainted Love’, ‘Show You How to Love’, ‘Teenage Dream’, and ‘Hey Soul Sister.’ The council will deliberate and give you a decision at Monday’s rehearsal. Now, we have an alumni event coming up we need to get ready for. So we’re going to run through some of our standards.”

Kurt received a binder with the sheet music for about a hundred songs in it. He noticed that some of the other Warblers had pulled out similar binders, but most were familiar enough with the songs and music to not need them. Since it was Kurt’s first rehearsal, he didn’t feel bad about relying on the binder, but he vowed to have all the songs that they would be singing at the alumni dinner memorized before the next rehearsal.

KBKBKBKBKB

“So, what do people do around here on the weekends?” Kurt asked Blaine as they walked back from the main building after dinner. Wes had kept them late and they hadn’t had time to go back to the dorms before dinner, so they were still wearing their uniforms.

“Well, a lot of students go home on the weekends,” Blaine said. “So campus is pretty deserted. But Westerville has a great mall, and there’s a shopping district that has some nice stores in town. Then there’s the movies, a bowling alley, a skating rink. Then again, Columbus is only a half hour away, so there’s museums and shows and stuff there most weekends. Plus more shopping. Of course, on campus, the pool has open swimming hours in the afternoons. And with a campus full of teenage boys, there is always an abundance of video games.”

“I doubt Matt will let me go haring off to Columbus without time to plan out every detail,” Kurt said with a huff. “But he might let me go into town. Would you like to hang out this weekend?”

“Not going home?” Blaine asked.

Kurt shook his head. “Dad’s in DC until Thanksgiving and Carole is with him. My stepbrother is… not worth going home for. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a nice enough guy, but we aren’t very close. And my friends are all busy getting ready for the school musical for the next three weeks.”

“In that case, I would love to hang out this weekend,” Blaine said. “I rarely go home on the weekends. My father travels a lot for work and since I’m here and my brother has been on his own for years my mother goes with him. They usually make it home a couple times a semester and expect me home then.”

"So, what should we do tonight?" Kurt asked. "I have a ton of homework, but I really don't feel like facing it tonight." 

"Why don't we see what movies we have between the two of us and have a movie night?" Blaine suggested. 

And so that's what they did. Only, fifteen minutes into the movie--The Avengers because Blaine loved superhero movies and because Kurt loved watching hot boys in spandex--there was a knock at their door. Sam, always on alert, got up to answer the door.

A few murmured words and Sam called Blaine to the door. Kurt sat back and observed as Blaine’s easygoing attitude shifted and, even though his uniform was safely tucked away in the closet in favor of sweat pants and a sweat shirt, his posture stiffened like he was in his starched shirt and tie. 

Kurt didn’t hear the content of the conversation, but he could guess. The two boys at the door were Wes and David, so it was likely that they were discussing something to do with the Warblers. It seemed to be all that the three of them ever discussed. In fact, Kurt had noted that Blaine rarely discussed anything but school or the Warblers with anyone else. 

Now that Kurt considered it, Kurt had never seen Blaine have a casual conversation with anyone but him and his bodyguards. He wasn’t sure if the same was true for the other boys at Dalton, but he hadn’t witnessed anyone just laughing of teasing or having fun of any sort since he had arrived. The only hint that any of these boys ever loosened up their ties was the story Blaine had told him about wading in the fountain after graduation… but now that he considered it, he thought they probably didn’t even loosen their ties then. It was probably all very solemn and serious as they rolled up their pant legs and dipped their toes into the water.

Kurt hadn’t been happy that his father insisted that he attend Dalton, but he had agreed to give it a shot. And in reality it wasn’t that bad. He had even been offered a solo for sectionals in his first week. But, he wasn’t sure he could ever live the way these boys lived. He wasn’t sure he could ever conform like they did.

Blaine returned a few minutes later and politely apologized for the interruption. He was stiff and formal as he said it and Kurt wondered if it was just residual formality from his interactions with the Warbler Wonder Twins or if they had said something to upset Blaine.

“Everything okay?” Kurt asked carefully.

Blaine seemed to shake himself mentally and then gave Kurt a small smile. “Oh, no, everything is fine. They just wanted to talk about the songs for sectionals, to find out if I had any preferences.”

Kurt quirked an eyebrow at him. “I thought that the council made those decisions.”

“They do,” Blaine said and blushed a little. “But as the lead soloist, they tend to take my opinion into consideration.”

Kurt snorted. “You mean they fall all over themselves to keep you happy…all in very proper ways, of course.”

Blaine blinked at him. “I’m not sure what you mean?”

Kurt sighed. “I’m sure you don’t. Can I ask you something personal?”

“Anything,” Blaine said absently, still attempting to decode Kurt’s earlier remarks. 

“Do you have any friends?” Kurt said and his voice was surprisingly gentle. Sam, who had been sitting in the armchair nearby, wandered over to the kitchen to give the boys a semblance of privacy.

Blaine was taken aback. He hadn’t expected a question like that. “I… Of course I have friends. Wes and David are my friends. We often have coffee together during break. And I have study group with Nick, Jeff and Thad before midterms and finals. And Trent…”

“Trent follows you around like a puppy,” Kurt said. “I had noticed. But I’m not talking about people you study with or talk to on coffee breaks. Those are acquaintances or, at best, colleagues. Those aren’t friends. Friends are the people you can be yourself around. No formality, no judgment. Friends are people you can hang out with after hours and talk about anything or nothing. Do you have any of those?”

Blaine shrugged. “I used to.”

“Yeah?” Kurt said encouragingly.

Blaine nodded. “Josh, the kid… the kid I went to the Sadie Hawkins dance with. He was my best friend. Probably my only friend by your definition.”

“How long ago was that?” Kurt asked.

“The dance was in the fall of my freshman year,” Blaine said. “I started here right after. So two years.”

“Have you talked to Josh since?” Kurt wondered.

“We… we emailed a few times after I transferred and he moved,” Blaine said. “But… things were different and it didn’t really last.”

Kurt sighed. “I understand that. I’ve only been gone a week and I already feel like most of my friends have moved on without me. I mean, I still talk and text with Rachel and Mercedes, but I’m not a part of what they are doing every day anymore.” He shook off those depressing thoughts. “But at least we’ll still be able to see each other on weekends… at least once they're finished with the musical.”

“You’re lucky,” Blaine said softly.

“But just because you lost one friend due to circumstances doesn’t mean you can’t make more friends now,” Kurt said. “But if you keep yourself closed off behind a mask of formality and politesse, you’ll never make real friends.”

“I… I’m not that way with you,” Blaine said shyly. “I’m not sure why. Before we actually met I was… I thought I’d do my duty and show you around but…” Blaine shrugged. “It’s kind of hard not to be real with you.”

Kurt smiled. “That’s because I find it nearly impossible not to be myself. I tried to wear a mask that first day. I wanted to be aloof and proper, but that didn’t even last an hour. I was already dropping the mask before we made it to our first class. I’m not sure the other students really know what to do with me.”

“You do stand out,” Blaine admitted. “Even in a uniform. And I’m not even sure why. You are just as smart and well-spoken as any boy here. You wear the uniform like you were born in it. You don’t run through the halls or draw attention to yourself overtly. I’m not really sure why you stand out so boldly.”

“Maybe because I’m being myself,” Kurt said. “Maybe because I’m not trying to hide who I am under a perfectly polite façade. I mean, I’m not normally rude unless someone is rude to me first. But I also don’t really put a lot of importance on the social niceties. I’m not sure, but it seems like everyone at this school wears their breeding like armor.”

Blaine huffed a disgruntled laugh. “I suppose we do. I can’t speak for everyone else, but… My family was always very formal, even when we were at home, just the four of us. We didn’t have arguments because what would the servants think? Even when I came out to my parents… well, they didn’t yell, they just got quiet and even more distant.”

“Sounds like an awful way to grow up,” Kurt said sympathetically.

Blaine shrugged. “It’s just the way it was. My parents care about me. I know they do. They just… they don’t know how to express their feelings. Their parents were even more stilted than they are.”

Kurt nodded. “I guess. For all that we have money now, my dad comes from a blue-collar family. He worked his way up from nothing. So, even though we have a pretty nice house and everything now, we’ve always just… what people thought about us was never as important as how we felt about each other. Even when Dad ran for the Senate, he said that he wasn’t going to change just to please some voters. Either they voted for him or they didn’t. He never asked me to hide who I am. And he’s never really changed all that much, either. Even though he wears suits most days, he still prefers spending his days off in his old flannel shirts and up to his elbows in a car engine.”

Blaine chuckled at the image. He could actually see Burt Hummel doing just that. 

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that you don’t always have to be so formal,” Kurt continued. “There’s a time and place for that, but… you’ll never have close friends if you never let anyone in.”

Blaine, without thinking about it, clasped Kurt’s hand in his own. “I think maybe I’ve already made a friend.”

Kurt smiled at him and squeezed his hand. “You have.”

“Are we going to finish the movie?” Sam said. He had made himself a plate of pizza rolls in the microwave and was munching away.

Kurt laughed at the picture he made. “Sure. Let’s finish this movie and then we can watch Sound of Music.”

Sam groaned, but Blaine smiled. He loved that movie.

KBKBKBKBKB

In the days that followed, Kurt noticed that Blaine made a true effort to loosen up around some of the Warblers. He brought up football with Wes, who was an avid fan of the sport, and talked to David about movies over coffee one day. Another day, Nick, Jeff, Trent and Blaine got into an intense discussion over whether Star Wars or Harry Potter was the best movie franchise of all time. It seemed like once Blaine began to open up a little, the others did as well. Kurt even found himself discussing heart healthy recipes with David, whose father also had heart problems.

“It’s spreading,” Blaine whispered to Kurt one afternoon while they were waiting for Warbler rehearsal to begin. The other Warblers were all chattering away, something that had not happened before, to Kurt’s knowledge. And they weren’t talking about their set list or music, either. Kurt could hear conversations about girlfriends and video games and the past weekend’s football game. In other words, they sounded just like any other group of teenage boys.

“It’s nice,” Kurt said with a smile. “I guess you weren’t the only one hiding.”

“Guess not,” Blaine said.

Wes banged his gavel from the front of the room to regain the attention of everyone. In the past, what little talk there was would have halted immediately. This time, it took a couple extra minutes to get everyone’s attention. When they did quiet, however, they were just as focused on the music as ever.

The rehearsal went well. The group who had volunteered to arrange Kurt’s solo had done a magnificent job. The council still could not make up their minds about the other two songs for sectionals, so they practiced all four. 

It was a Friday afternoon, and Kurt had plans to go home for the weekend for the first time since coming to Dalton. After the practice broke up, he turned to Blaine and said, “So, I talked to Matt and got permission to go home this weekend. If you want to come with me, I would love for you to meet my Lima friends.”

Blaine smiled at him. “I would love to meet your friends.”

In the three weeks since Kurt had arrived at Dalton, Blaine had heard a lot about Kurt’s old school and his friends there. Mercedes and Rachel seemed to be the two that Kurt was closest to, but the others sounded like great people as well. Even Santana, whom Kurt often called Satan, sounded very interesting. After a lifetime spent with people who never showed emotions, such brutal honesty sounded refreshing.

“We’re expected in Lima at 7,” Sam told them as they made their way back to the dorms. “We’ll need to leave in half an hour to arrive in time for dinner.”

Kurt nodded and Blaine groaned internally. He may not be the fashion maven that Kurt was, but he needed a little more than half an hour to pack for a weekend. Plus, he needed to shower, change clothes and do something with his hair. Kurt must have anticipated Blaine’s dilemma, because he was busy in Blaine’s closet when he emerged from the bathroom fifteen minutes later. With his help, Blaine was able to put together several outfits suitable for meeting Kurt’s friends. Blaine was just glad that Kurt’s father and stepmother wouldn’t be there or he never would have been able to pack in time.

When they reached the parking lot, Sam slipped into the driver’s seat of a black Navigator with tinted windows. Puck was already there and helped put Blaine’s bag into the back before taking the other front seat, leaving Kurt and Blaine to ride in back.

“Aren’t you two taking the weekend off?” Blaine asked. Over the past few weeks, the two men had usually been replaced by a rotation of other bodyguards on the weekends. He hadn’t seen the same one twice.

“Not this weekend,” Sam said. “Matt doesn’t like leaving Kurt with the temps when we’re travelling or spending time in Lima.”

“They traced the death threats back to a post office there,” Puck explained. “Matt feels better if we’re around. We know the people and area better than the guys the service sends for weekends.”

“What service is it that you guys work for?” Blaine asked. He’d never really thought to ask that question before.

“Dude, I thought you knew,” Puck said with a chuckle. “We’re Secret Service. You know, Senator Hummel’s a Senate leader and because of that gets protection just like the president.”

“And the Senator’s family,” Sam added. “Normally, there isn’t a huge need for large protection details, but Kurt has been getting threats since his father was elected. They’ve escalated recently, however, hence the need for heightened security.”

Somehow Blaine couldn’t reconcile Puck as a Secret Service agent, but what they said made sense. He knew that it wasn’t only the President that the Secret Service protected, he just hadn’t really thought about it.

“Before Dad was made a Senate leader, we had a private security team,” Kurt said. “But I was pretty young then. I kinda just thought everyone had guys following them around all the time. I used to make them play tea party with me.” 

“I’m glad we missed those years,” Puck said with a shudder.

“You would have looked adorable in a tiara and pink feather boa,” Kurt teased. 

“Please,” Puck scoffed. “I can rock any look. But all that tea… Ugh.”

Blaine laughed along with the others but said, “I like tea. But I never got to have tea parties. My brother would make me be the villain so he could pretend to be a superhero. I’m pretty sure it was just an excuse to beat me up, but I liked the costumes I got to wear.”


	10. New Directions Art Collective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaine, a recently graduated sculptor, is invited to join an art collective. Kurt is a photographer, the CEO, and the founder of the collective.

"So things with your dad didn't go well?" Wes Montgomery asked his friend over the phone rather early in the morning as he was getting ready for work. 

Blaine sighed. "When I told him I had switched majors he flipped his shit."

"Well you have been lying to him for four years," Wes said diplomatically. "The man thought you went to Columbia for their business program but you are graduating with a fine arts degree."

"He never would have paid for college if I had told him the truth," Blaine said defensively. "Besides, I got a minor in arts administration and I never actually lied to him. I never told him I was going to be a business major; he just assumed. He never cared enough to ask."

"Where are you?" Wes asked as he heard a semi-truck pass in the distance. 

"Somewhere in Hell’s Kitchen," Blaine said. "Not far from 12th Avenue. Did you know they call it Clinton these days?"

"They’ve always called it Clinton. Hell’s Kitchen was just a rather descriptive nickname. The real question is what are you doing there?" Wes asked with equal parts curiosity and concern. Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t as bad as it used to be, but there were still some shady areas.

"I have no fucking clue," Blaine told him. "At the department graduation party, professor Baines handed me a card with a date and time for an appointment on the back. He said I should go so here I am."

"That man is crazy," Wes said. "And you're crazy for going along with him. Every time I met him at one of your student shows, he had some weird story to tell. Why in the world would you just go to some mysterious appointment with no explanation?"

Blaine shrugged even though Wes couldn't see him. "I had nothing else to do today. My stuff is all packed even if have no place to live in a few days. And I have no intention of moving home, even if my father hadn't cut me off."

"The offer for the couch still stands," Wes said.

Blaine grimaced as he thought about the overcrowded apartment that Wes and David shared. He had spent plenty of nights on that sofa and knew it was not a place to sleep unless you were too drunk to feel the springs poking into your side. "It may just come to that. Listen, I've got to go. I'm almost to the address."

"Call me after," Wes said. "I don't trust Baines not to send you to some creepy warehouse where an axe murderer is waiting."

Blaine laughed at that and said, "You watch too many horror movies. I'll call you later."

After disconnecting the call, Blaine considered the building before him. It really was a warehouse and it was kind of creepy. The card said to use the side entrance, though the building was large and he could see that the front faced the 12th Avenue and the Hudson River. There were three doors on the side of the building but only one door wasn't one of those huge bay doors, so that's where he went. To the right side of the door, there was an intercom and a small sign that read NDAC. He pressed the button and waited.

It took a couple of minutes, but eventually the door swung open to reveal a well-lit hall and a rather beautiful woman of Latin descent. "What are you selling?"

Blaine blinked at her a couple times before stammering, "N-nothing. I was given this card and told to come here."

The woman rolled her eyes. "I am so over this secretive shit. This is not a James Bond movie. Get your perky little ass in here."

Blaine reluctantly followed her inside and let the door slam closed behind him. The hall was well lit, but it was rather ominous once the door to the outside world closed. There were several doors off the hallway, but not much else.

"Wait here." Blaine did as he was told but watched as she went through one of the doors into what looked like an office of some sort and picked up a phone. "Yo, Hummel, you got a visitor." She looked over at Blaine and smirked. "No, he looks more like one of those troll dolls dressed up in a bowtie than a college boy. Yeah, yeah." With that, she hung up the phone. "He'll be down in a minute. I'm Santana, by the way."

"Blaine Anderson," Blaine said politely and held put a hand for her to shake. She simply looked at it and smirked. 

"Listen up, Dapper Dan," Santana practically hissed through her scary smile. "I don't care who you are or why you're here, but get one thing straight: you meet the pretty blond named Brittany, and remember that she belongs to me. Got it?"

"Um, sure," Blaine said. "But, just so you know, she isn't my type."

"Britt is every straight boy's wet dream," Santana growled.

"The operative word being straight," Blaine said wryly. "But since I'm not, I can assure you that no matter how devastatingly gorgeous your girl is, I am not a threat."

Santana looked him over through narrowed eyes and then smiled a genuinely pleasant smile. "Alright then. Welcome to the Funny Farm."

"Satan, please try not to traumatize the new guy before he even gets a tour," another voice said. It was high and lilting and held just a touch of hauteur. When Blaine turned to see who the new person was, he froze. The face that went with that voice was amazing. He was easily the most beautiful man that Blaine had ever seen. His eyes seemed to glow and his skin was flawless. He was taller than Blaine and had the perfect build of a dancer. "You must be Blaine Anderson. I'm Kurt Hummel. Welcome."

Kurt held out his hand and Blaine automatically shook it. "Um, thanks, but... what exactly is this place?"

Kurt frowned. "Didn't Professor Baines explain? Crazy old man. I knew I should have contacted you directly. But you came anyway?"

"I didn't have anything else to do," Blaine said. "Graduation is tomorrow and my dorm is already packed up."

"Let me take you upstairs," Kurt said. "I can explain while I show you around."

Blaine followed Kurt down to the end of the hall and through another door that led to one of those elevators that you only see in warehouses. He opened the gate and they both got in and then Kurt shut the gate and pressed the button for the second floor.

As the car started to move, Kurt began to speak. "This building is the headquarters for the New Directions Art Collective. Have you heard of us?"

Blaine struggled for a minute. "I think so. I think I read an article about you. Something about a commission piece done for the Lincoln Center renovation?"

"That's right," Kurt said. "That particular piece was done by Puck, one of our resident artists. It was a mural for one of the lobbies in the new arts education building."

The elevator stopped and Kurt went through the process of opening the gates and then let Blaine step off before closing the outer gate. They were in a massive room. There were huge windows on every side. Only the center was closed off completely for the elevator and what looked to be bathrooms and some sort of large closet. The rest of the space was mostly open. There were partitions, much like stalls in a stable but on a larger scale, about ten feet high, separating out various work spaces around the massive room. Each stall had a huge sliding wooden door with bar slats at the top, much like the horse stalls Blaine had seen, as well.

"This is why we call it the Funny Farm," Kurt said. "It looks a lot like a giant horse barn, doesn't it?"

"It does," Blaine agreed. 

"Each stall is a studio space for one of our artists," Kurt said. "There are sixteen stalls and currently there are fifteen artists. Most of the stalls are 500 square feet, so there’s plenty of room to work; the corner stalls are a little bigger at 625 square feet. Upstairs, on the three floors above us, are the living quarters. The apartments and studios come with membership to the collective. If you decide to join us, you would have use of studio space and one of the apartments. In addition, the collective pays for all art supplies."

"I don't understand," Blaine said as he wandered closer to one of the stalls. Inside, through the slats at the top of the door, he could see various paintings in progress. Another stall was filled with sketches and photographs of various murals. And the corner stall was set up with photography equipment. That stall door was open.

"That's my studio," Kurt said. "Go inside and look around. I also have a darkroom on the first floor. That's where I was when Santana called."

The photographs that Blaine could see were amazing. They were obviously digitally enhanced, because there was no way to do what some of the photos portrayed in real life. It was obvious that a lot of painstaking work had gone into creating the finished product. They were almost like digital paintings. In one, he recognized the woman from downstairs posed with a blond that he could only guess was the elusive Brittany. They were dressed in flowing gowns but the setting was ethereal, like they were in a fairy world of some sort. Even the colors had been meticulously enhanced.

"Beautiful," Blaine said quietly.

"Not everything I do is digital," Kurt said. "But I do like playing around a bit."

Blaine turned to face Kurt. "So, the collective would provide me with a place to live and a studio to work in. What does NDAC get in return?"

"Fifteen percent of your profits to offset our investment," Kurt said. "And a signed contract. The standard contract is for five years. You don't have to live here that entire time, but it makes sense for most people. And you get more than just a place to live and work. The collective has a gallery downstairs where you can show your work. We have a rather great website as well. And we have the reputation and connections to get some of those profitable commissions you read about. All for little more than what an agent would charge."

Kurt led the way to the empty stall that would be Blaine's if he chose to join them. It was in the opposite corner from Kurt’s and was already set up with almost everything he would need to create his sculptures.

"We've been looking for a sculptor for a while now," Kurt explained when Blaine gave him a questioning glance. "I do most of the scouting, but I couldn't find anyone whose work I thought would fit the collective's aesthetic or ideals. But I saw your senior show and was blown away by the pieces you displayed. I knew you would be a perfect fit to round out our little family. Creatively speaking, at least."

Blaine thanked him, but he wasn't sure what to think. "Maybe I could see the apartment?"

"Of course," Kurt said with a smile. "Let's head back to the elevator."

Kurt took them to the fifth floor, the top of the building, and Blaine followed him to a heavy steel sliding door. He noted that there were three other similar doors on that floor. 

“The third and fourth floors all have six apartments, but this floor only has four,” Kurt said, answering Blaine’s unasked question. “Your apartment is the smallest on this floor, but it’s about the same size as the lower level apartments. Plus, it has a great view of the river.”

Blaine stepped inside and was amazed at the space. He could tell that it had once simply been one giant room, but previous occupants had broken the room up into various spaces using partial walls and bookshelves. The kitchen was at the center of the space with a large sitting area off to one side and a bedroom to the other. It was industrial and yet Blaine could easily see being comfortable there.

“Through that door is the bathroom,” Kurt said as he pointed. “All the bathrooms and kitchens here are actually pretty nice considering we live in a warehouse. Sorry, but there are no closets in this apartment. Some people have divided up their apartments into rooms and added things like that, but Matt never bothered. Personally, I like it rustic like this.”

“It’s great,” Blaine said. “What about the furniture?” Besides the shelves that separated the spaces, there were odd pieces of furniture throughout the place. It looked like someone had gotten everything from garage sales, but it somehow worked to create a welcoming and comfortable space.

“Matt left it all when he moved to Memphis,” Kurt said. “He said it wasn’t worth the cost to move it all. So it’s yours to use or get rid of.”

Blaine looked into the bathroom and noted that it was just as spacious as the rest of the apartment. There was a walk in shower and a large tub. There was plenty of storage and counter space. And, while it wasn't as luxurious as the bathrooms in his parents' house, it was a lot nicer, and cleaner, than the dorm showers he had used for the past four years.

“Let’s head downstairs,” Kurt said. “You can see the gallery and the other spaces on the first floor.”

The gallery took up the front half of the building, opening up onto 12th Avenue, and was a lot nicer than Blaine would have expected given the crude side entrance he had come through earlier. The space was all one huge room with movable white partitions to create nooks and corners to hang art. Blaine recognized the names of several of the artists: B.S. Pierce, Noah Puckerman, Sam Evans. He hadn’t realized that they were part of NDAC. Well, Puckerman, but just because he’d read that article.

They left the gallery and headed back into the gloomy hallway. From there Kurt showed him his small darkroom and Blaine noticed the light outside the doorway to indicate when Kurt was inside developing film. They moved on before Blaine really had a chance to look around.

“The office and vault down here is used mostly for the gallery,” Kurt explained as he showed Blaine the office Santana had been in before. “Santana manages the gallery, and she and her partner Brittany live in one of the other apartments on the fifth floor. Britt does mostly abstract art.”

“Brittany,” Blaine said considering. “She’s the one Santana warned me away from. Is she B.S. Pierce?”

“One and the same,” Kurt nodded. He led the way out of the office and down the hall again. This time they entered what looked to be a giant hangar. This was where those huge bay doors led. “We don’t get a lot of call for oversized pieces, but when we do, this is where we work. So if, say, you got a commission for a sculpture that was fifteen feet tall and twelve feet wide, this is where you could work on it. We also use this when we have to ship pieces out. That ramp there leads to the elevator.”

Blaine blinked. “There’s just so much to take in.”

“I know it’s a lot,” Kurt said. “But I want you to know that we don’t make offers like this to just anyone. We do our homework. We only invite the most talented and deserving to join us. But I know that not everyone is comfortable with this type of setup. Or with the commitment we require. If you need a few days to think it over, I understand.”

Blaine nodded. He really should take a few days to think things over. Five years was a long time to commit to something. And though he was rather destitute at the moment, if he waited two and a half years, he would get his inheritance from his grandparents. He could easily pay his own way then. 

But in the meantime, he would be stuck living on Wes and David’s sofa and scrambling for work. He wouldn’t be able to afford a place to sculpt or materials. He would have to stifle his creativity. Plus, he would be turning down the opportunity to work alongside some of the most talented artists he had ever seen. And he wouldn’t get to live next door to one of the most beautiful men he had ever met.

“No, I don’t need time,” Blaine said. “I’d like to join.”

Kurt’s grin was infectious. “Good! Let me get the contract for you to read over and then I’ll call Santana to notarize our signatures.”

BKBKBKBKBK

“You agreed to what?” Wes demanded when Blaine showed up on his doorstep that evening. “You should have at least let me read through the contract before you signed it!”

“You aren’t a lawyer yet,” Blaine said with a shrug.

“Just because I haven’t taken the bar exam yet,” Wes countered. “I can still read contracts.”

“So can I,” Blaine said. “It was all very forthright. There was no fine print or legal jargon that I couldn’t understand. It was as straightforward as signing a lease. I agree to give them 15% of my earnings from my art and only my art for five years. They agree to provide me with a studio and apartment as well as furnish the art supplies for my work. I have the option to display my work in the gallery and on their website, but it’s not an exclusive agreement. If I can find other places to sell my stuff, they’re all for it.”

“Because they get 15%,” Wes muttered.

“Because they get 15%,” Blaine agreed. “But because my income affects their bottom line, they are as invested in seeing me succeed as I am. And they have a lot of contacts and connections. The collective had more than fifty major commissions last year. That’s an average of three per artist.”

“And by major, you mean…?”

“Making more than $10,000,” Blaine said. “Smaller commissions number in the hundreds. And that doesn't include the sales to individuals through their gallery and website. I could really get a good start with their help. Plus, you have to see the apartment I’ll be living in. It’s at least twice the size of this place with 15 foot ceilings. And a view of the river.”

“You’ve set your mind on this, haven’t you?” Wes asked with a sigh.

Blaine nodded. “I think this is a really great opportunity for me.”

Wes nodded. “Fine. David and I will help you move on Sunday.”

“Wait, what are you volunteering me for?” David asked as he entered the living room from his bedroom.

“We’re helping Blaine move from the dorms to some artist colony he’s joined,” Wes said.

Blaine wanted to object to the term Wes used to describe NDAC, but David was faster. “Cool! Is it out on some farm? Will you have to harvest berries to make paint pigment?”

“I don’t paint,” Blaine reminded his friend. “And it’s a collective, not a commune. I’ll be living in Clinton, right off 12th Avenue.”

“That’s even better,” David said solemnly. “I get hay fever if I’m in the country for long. And this way we can still have video game nights and go out for karaoke.”

“You are unbelievable,” Wes told his best friend and roommate. “Our little Blainers tells us he’s joined an art collective and you think it’s cool?”

David shrugged. “It is cool. If I understand how these things work, he’ll have a place to live and do his sculpting thing. And they get a part of his profits in return.”

“15%,” Wes said.

David, who had just finished his master’s in business shrugged. “Seems low for all that they’re providing. They’re acting as his agent, who would take at least 10%. Plus they’re providing housing and studio space. Living space in Manhattan, even in Clinton, isn’t cheap. How long is the contract?”

“Five years,” Blaine said. 

David nodded. “Given that the average wage for artists is somewhere along the lines of a retail worker, even in five years they wouldn’t make up their investment. They have to have other income to support the collective.”

Blaine considered that. “It seems likely. I mean, at the very least someone had to pay the initial investment for the property and renovations of the warehouse. And while I’ve heard of a few of the artists who are part of the collective, they aren’t all well-known. Even with the commissions and gallery sales, they can’t be recouping what they invested. Not totally.”

“Let’s Google them,” Wes said.

“Let’s order dinner first,” David countered. “I’m starving.”

For the next hour, while they waited for their dinner to arrive, the three friends looked for anything that might tell them more about the history of NDAC. Once the Chinese delivery guy arrived, however, they gave up and dug into their food.

“I found loads of reviews about the artists involved,” Blaine said. “But very little about NDAC itself.”

“I found their website,” Wes said. “And it looks like they have a pretty good setup. They have hundreds of pieces up for sale and the prices range from about $400 to $10,000 depending on the artist and the piece. It doesn’t say much about the history though. Just gives their mission and vision statements.”

“Well, I was a little more successful,” David said. “They are a nonprofit organization and they do receive outside funding. I couldn’t tell from their 990 where that money comes from, it was listed as anonymous. But I did find out that they were established 5 years ago and there are only a few people on the payroll. Santana Lopez is listed as the gallery manager and Kurt Hummel is listed as the CEO. There are a few part-time gallery employees, a web designer and a couple maintenance people for the building.”

“Sounds about right,” Blaine said. “How did you get all that? You didn’t hack anyone’s network, did you?”

“Of course not,” David huffed. “990s are public information. You just have to know where to look.”

“What was their profit to loss ratio?” Wes asked.

“Oh, well, it was actually better than I thought it would be,” David said. “They only rely on outside donations for about 25% of their budget. But that’s still $325,000 a year. Their annual budget is about $1.3 million.”

“And it only listed one source for the money?” Blaine asked.

“Actually, there were about forty other donors, both individual and institutional,” David said. “But the largest of those gifts was only $15,000. The rest all comes from anonymous.”

“Very mysterious,” Wes said.

“But not suspicious,” Blaine countered. “A lot of donors don’t want to be acknowledged. You have nothing to worry about, Wes.”

BKBKBKBKBK

Kurt had given Blaine the key and code to get into the building, so when Blaine arrived on Sunday with David and Wes in tow, he was able to open the bay doors and park the rented pickup there while they unloaded. With the bay door closed, they didn’t even have to worry about leaving someone with the truck while the other two carried.

“This isn’t bad,” David said as they walked from the elevator to his door.

“Not bad at all,” Wes agreed as Blaine let them into the apartment and they got their first look at the place. “It’s freaking huge.”

“Not huge,” Blaine said.

“By Manhattan standards, it is,” David said. “And you don’t even have to share.”

“Plus it’s furnished,” Wes said. “Not to my tastes, but it will do until you can afford something else.”

“I kind of like the eclectic feel to the place,” Blaine said. “And it is a relief knowing that I won’t have to eat off the floor.”

They sat the boxes down and went back to the truck for another load. This time they brought up a mattress and box springs. While Blaine was happy to have hand-me-down furniture, he didn’t want to sleep on a mattress that he didn’t know where it had been or who had slept there before him. So he had splurged. He used up a chunk of his savings to buy a quality mattress and bed linens. He was once again grateful that he hadn’t told his father about his major until the end. The allowance his parents had sent to him each month had been generous and he had put aside at least half of it each month for four years to build up his savings, knowing that someday soon he would need it.

It wasn’t until they were bringing up the final load that they actually ran into anyone. A blond man with large lips stepped off the elevator as they waited downstairs. “Hey, one of you must be Blaine, right?”

“That would be me,” Blaine said as he set down his boxes to shake the guy’s hand. 

“Sam Evans,” Sam said with a big grin. “Welcome to the Funny Farm. Kurt told us to expect you today, and that we should be on our best behavior so we didn’t scare you away. I think he mostly meant Puck and Santana.”

“I haven’t met Puck yet, but I met Santana the other day,” Blaine said. “And I’m not sure even her best behavior wouldn’t be scary. Sam, these are my best friends, David and Wes.”

Once the greetings and introductions were out of the way, Sam offered to help them carry up the boxes. Blaine declined since they were almost done.

“Well, then, I guess I should let you finish up,” Sam said with another grin. “I’m off to meet my girl for brunch. Great meeting you guys.”

Once Sam was gone, they took the elevator up. “Well, he was a friendly one,” Wes said. 

“Yeah,” Blaine agreed. “Let’s get this stuff unpacked and I’ll order pizza for lunch. Then I can give you guys a tour of the rest of the place if you want? We might even see a few other people. There weren’t any the day I was here, but Kurt said that’s because most of the group doesn’t get up until late.”

“Well, let’s get to work then,” David said as he opened one of the boxes. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can eat.”

BKBKBKBKBK

Monday morning, Blaine woke early, as he usually did. His first night in his new home had actually been rather restful. Despite the traffic noise from 12th Avenue that seemed to always be present, the loft apartment was already more of a home than Blaine had ever had. Even his parents’ house back in Ohio had never felt quite so warm or welcoming. Probably because they insisted that everything had to be perfect at all times. It was more like living in a museum than a home. But this loft was perfectly imperfect and Blaine loved it.

Feeling almost giddy with happiness, Blaine made a pot of coffee and then poured some into an oversized mug. He found the muffin that he had picked up from the grocer after dropping off the rental truck. Then he headed out of the loft and towards the stairwell. He hadn’t been to the roof yet, but Kurt had mentioned that he sometimes went up there to think. Blaine thought it would be a perfect place to have his modest breakfast.

The sun was just rising over the city and Blaine marveled at just how peaceful and still it was so early in the morning. All too soon, the city would wake from its short slumber and there would be noise and traffic and people everywhere. But for now, other than the rumble of the occasional passing truck, there wasn’t much to disturb the morning.

Blaine quickly realized that he wasn’t alone on the rooftop. Kurt was already up there, sitting at a café table and reading from his iPad as he munched on a croissant and sipped his coffee. “Good morning.”

Kurt startled momentarily, but smiled when he recognized the intruder. “Good morning to you, Blaine. Are you an early riser, too?”

“Most days,” Blaine said. “I think it comes from years of living at an all-boys school and then living in a dorm. It was the only time of day I could ever get any privacy. And I like the peace of the early morning hours, when few souls are about.”

Kurt nodded. “Well, you’re welcome to join me.”

Blaine took the other seat and began to eat his muffin while Kurt went back to his reading. They kept a comfortable silence for about half an hour, until both of their pastries were devoured and their coffee mugs empty. 

Kurt set aside his iPad and turned to Blaine. “I’ll need to get a supply list from you, so that you can start working. I already got a few basics, like clay and sculpting tools, and there are supplies of sketchpads and pencils and numerous other things in the supply closet. But I know you've done work in marble and stone and wood. I’m not really sure what you’ll need or what you want to work on.”

Blaine bit his lip. “I’m not totally sure yet, either. As far as stone and wood go, I usually need to pick the pieces myself to be sure they’re what I want and that they’re of the right quality for the work I want to do. I have my own set of chisels for woodwork, but the tools for stonework were always too expensive, so I just borrowed the school’s when I needed to.”

“Make a list,” Kurt said. “Or just order the items and have the bill sent here to my attention. And don’t worry about trying to produce right away. We all know that it takes time to find inspiration. For me, I usually just take walks with my cameras until something strikes me. But I know that other artists can sometimes spend weeks just sketching ideas until something really strikes them.”

“Thanks,” Blaine said. “I’ll keep that in mind. Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” Kurt said with a smile. “I don’t promise to answer, but feel free to ask.”

Blaine took in that response but set it aside to examine later. “Why me? I mean, I know you look for talented artists, and I know I am talented. But you also said that you look for artists who need the collective. How could you know that I would need something like this?”

“In some ways, I think all artists need something like what we have here,” Kurt said. “The support both financially and creatively to do what they dream of doing. That’s the whole point of this place. But you’re right; we also look at the financial situations of our artists and try to help those who don’t have the support from anywhere else.

“I hope this doesn’t sound too creepy-stalker, but I asked about you,” Kurt said. “I’ve known Professor Baines for a while and when I asked about your work, he mentioned a bit about your family. He told me that you feared that once your father found out about your choice to pursue your art that he would take away all support.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised that he would break a confidence,” Blaine said quietly. “As much as I admire Professor Baines, he doesn’t exactly look at the world the same way most people do. And my father did cut me off. I knew he would. That was the main reason I never told him about being a fine arts major. I just let him believe I was getting a business degree. I’m not totally destitute. I’ll get an inheritance from my grandparents when I turn 25, but in the meantime, I figured I would have to put my art on hold for a few years.”

“That’s why we offered,” Kurt said. “Talent like yours should not be squandered.”

“You keep saying ‘we’,” Blaine said. “Who is ‘we’?”

Kurt flushed. “Well, I suppose ‘we’ is actually me. I make the choices as to who to invite.”

“But who pays for all of this?” Blaine asked. “I mean, as good as you guys are at getting people noticed, the artists can’t bring in enough to cover the cost of maintaining a building like this and the supplies and the website… and a hundred other things. At least not when you only charge 15%.”

“There are donors,” Kurt agreed reluctantly. “But our largest donor wishes to remain anonymous. I respect his wishes.”

Blaine knew to let the subject drop by the firm look on Kurt’s face. “Okay, so how did you get to be the CEO of a nonprofit art collective? You can’t be much older than I am. You had to be right out of high school when this thing started.”

Kurt smiled a little wistfully. “Well, to explain that, I have to explain a bit about my background.”

“I’ve got time,” Blaine said.

Kurt nodded. “My life in high school sucked, to put it bluntly. I was the only out kid in my high school. I lived in a small town in Ohio and homosexuality wasn’t accepted. I spent a lot of time attempting to hide from the bullies and just trying to survive until I could get out. But I was also in love with fashion. I dreamed of getting out and going to Parsons or FIT. I wanted to start my own line. Failing that, I wanted to do fashion reporting.”

Kurt chuckled to himself as he recalled those days. “I used to blog about my personal fashion choices. And then I started taking photos of my outfits. Then I started taking photos of the outfits of the people around me and commenting on what worked and what didn’t. I thought I was Clinton Kelly or something.” He chuckled again and Blaine joined him. “Anyway, I found that I really loved taking the pictures as much as I did making the outfits. So I started taking classes in photography. 

“Our school didn’t have much of an arts department, and they certainly didn’t offer photography courses, but there was an Ohio State campus in our town, so I got permission to take courses in the evenings and on weekends and all through the summer. By the time I graduated high school, I had enough credits to earn an associate’s degree. I still planned on heading to New York and going to design school, but I wasn’t accepted. While the admissions officers all praised me for my personal style, I didn’t have the drawing skills or portfolio that other students offered.”

“I’m sorry,” Blaine offered.

“Not your fault,” Kurt said with a small smile. “But thank you. In truth it was the best thing that could have happened. I was stuck on a dream that I didn’t even fully want anymore. I was devastated for approximately two days after I got the rejections. And then my father took me aside and told me what he thought. He told me that I should pursue the thing I was most passionate about, which he didn’t think was clothes. He was right. I just hadn’t realized it yet.”

“Your father sounds like a smart man,” Blaine said.

“He’s the best,” Kurt agreed. “Anyway, it was too late to get into any programs for the fall, but dad shipped me off to New York anyway. I sent out applications for the spring semester and worked as a barista to make rent. And then I was sitting at one of the tables after my shift one day when a coworker started complaining about the fact that she couldn’t make enough money to actually paint and still make rent and feed herself.

“And that’s when the idea for NDAC was born,” Kurt said. “I knew someone who could afford to sponsor the startup and would be willing to commit to covering the yearly deficit, so I wrote up a business plan. Our anonymous benefactor got onboard and I got a lawyer to help make everything legal. We applied for and got our nonprofit status from the IRS. I found this building and had it renovated. And within six months NDAC was in operation.”

“Wow,” Blaine said. “When I graduated high school, the biggest concern on my mind was how I was going to get a fake ID so that I could get into bars.”

Kurt laughed. “I did that too.”

“So, how did you get other artists involved?” Blaine asked. “Was the girl from the coffee shop one of them?”

“Well, Gabrielle wasn’t really very good, so no, I didn’t invite her to join,” Kurt admitted. “Honestly, the first people I invited were from my high school art club. Britt, Santana, Puck, and Sam were all part of our club back in Lima. Matt was too, but he moved away just before my junior and his senior year. But another friend of ours kept in touch with him and knew that he was studying sculpting. When he graduated, he came here.”

“So that was three years ago?” Blaine asked.

Kurt nodded. “He’s been gone for almost a year, so he was only with us for two years. He’s the only person we’ve signed a contract shorter than five years. And that was simply because he knew when he joined us that he would have to leave. He was engaged to a girl. She came with him to New York to get her law degree with the expectation that they would move back to Chicago after she graduated so that she could join her father’s law firm. They got married last month and they seem very happy. And he’s getting a pretty good reputation in Chicago. He’s certainly gotten quite a few commissions in the last year.

“Anyway, Britt, Sam and Puck never had any intentions of going to college,” Kurt explained. “They are all brilliant artists, but for various reasons they aren’t good with school. So they joined right away. And where Britt goes, Santana goes. I offered her the job of running the gallery. She and I both got our degrees. She got a double major in art history and business. I got a fine arts degree and a business degree from NYU. It only took me a couple years since I already had so many credits from OSU. But those were two very hectic years. I was taking classes and getting the collective off the ground and trying to do my own photography. I was glad when I graduated.”

“I can’t imagine taking on that much responsibility,” Blaine said. “You are a stronger man than I am.”

Kurt gave him a smile. “I didn’t feel all that strong at the time. But one good thing came from my time at school. I found that if I went to all the college art shows, not just NYU’s, I could find some really great up-and-coming artists. So, that’s how I started recruiting. I like to get students who have just graduated, since that’s when they really need help the most. Otherwise they either get sucked into the rat race of commercial art or they lose their creativity to the mundanity of trying to keep a roof over their heads. And now we have a full stable of artists. No pun intended.”

“So, you can stop looking?” Blaine asked.

“I can never stop looking,” Kurt said. “The first contracts are ending in the next six months. I don’t think Britt and Santana have plans to go anywhere, but Puck’s getting anxious to head west. He’s had some offers out in LA and I think he wants to try his hand out there. And Sam’s collages sell for enough now that he can support himself. I think he wants to ask his girlfriend to marry him, and I doubt Missy will want to live here. In fact, I’ve heard her talk about wanting to move closer to her parents in Indiana. So that’s two slots I’ll need to fill in the not too distant future.”

“I should probably go down and get dressed for the day,” Blaine said reluctantly. “I want to familiarize myself with the studio this morning.”

“Okay,” Kurt said. “I have some work I should be doing as well. But I had planned to go out this afternoon to Central Park. It’s such a beautiful day and there will be loads of people about. I’ll take my camera. And if you wanted to join me, you could bring your sketch book. Perhaps you’ll be inspired.”

“I’ll do that,” Blaine said with a happy smile.

BKBKBKBKBK

Blaine was happy when he met Kurt after lunch. His morning had been great. His studio was better than anything he could have hoped for, his apartment was great, and he now had a new friend who shared his love of art. Life couldn’t really get much better.

They walked east towards the park and then cut north on 8th Avenue. When they reached Columbus Circle, Kurt paused to pull out his camera. There were so many people out and the light was just perfect. Soon, they entered the park from the southwest corner and headed for Rat Rock. Kurt wanted to get pictures of the climbers. Blaine went and sketched for a while, but ended up migrating over to Heckscher Playground to watch the kids and parents or nannies. He captured more than one interesting face or shape onto paper before Kurt joined him.

“One of the parents said there’s a carnival over in Wollman Rink,” Blaine told him. “I thought it might be a good place to check out?”

“This is an inspirational trip,” Kurt said with a shrug. “So we go wherever inspiration pulls us.”

They ended up spending a little time at the carnival before heading to the zoo. Finally they took one of the paths by The Pond and exited the park on the southeast corner. They strolled down 5th Avenue for a while, window shopping.

“I used to dream of having a store here,” Kurt admitted as they looked into the windows at Tiffany’s. “My junior year of high school, our art club took a school trip to New York to see some of the museums. My best friend at the time, Rachel, and I snuck out one morning and came here. We had bagels and coffee right here and vowed that we would be back to take New York by storm. She wanted to be on Broadway. She was a horrible artist, so I always thought Broadway would be a better fit, anyway.”

“And is she?” Blaine asked.

Kurt shrugged and started to walk again. “Not that I know of. We… parted ways not long after that.”

“What do you mean?” Blaine asked.

Kurt gave him a sad smile. “Senior year, I realized that I didn’t have much on my transcript besides art cub, a few college courses and a personal fashion blog. So I decided to run for class president. Rachel decided to run against me.”

“Who won?” Blaine asked.

“Neither of us,” Kurt said wryly. “She wasn’t really even in the running, but it was a pretty close race between me and Brittany.”

“Brittany?” Blaine asked. “As in the Brittany that is at NDAC?”

“One and the same,” Kurt agreed. “Anyway, Rachel tried to sabotage us both. She stuffed a bunch of ballots into the box for each of us and then gave an anonymous tip to the principal saying that we had both cheated.”

“Wow,” Blaine said. “What a bitch.”

“Rachel could be when she got on a mission,” Kurt said. “She was really very ambitious. A little too ambitious. It was sort of her downfall. The principal quickly figured out that the handwriting on all the ballots matched and that neither Brittany nor I would try to stuff ballots for the other. When Rachel was called in, she crumbled. She was suspended for a week and the incident was put on her permanent record. The principal even sent an addendum to NYADA’s admissions office. He was truly pissed.”

“So she didn’t get in?” Blaine asked.

“She probably still would have if she hadn’t choked on her audition,” Kurt said with a shrug. “By then we weren’t really friends anymore, so I’m not sure exactly what happened. I do know that she tried to get a second chance by hounding the Dean. She was dating my stepbrother at the time and he told me that she was being creepy-stalker about it.”

“Wow,” Blaine said again. “Not a good way to impress anyone. She should have just waited and reapplied.”

“Rachel was never very good at waiting,” Kurt said. “I don’t know if she ever did get in. She left for New York right after graduation. She broke Finn’s heart, but in the end, her leaving was the best thing she could have done for him. He ended up getting his teaching certification and teaches music at our old high school now. He married a girl who was a few years behind us in school, Marley. She’s studying to be a kindergarten teacher at OSU in Lima. They’re quite happy together.”

“So you never heard from this Rachel girl again?” Blaine asked. “I know what she did was pretty crummy, but you seem like the forgiving type.”

“I am,” Kurt said. “But I had already forgiven so much. That was just the final straw. We started off as rivals, competing for awards, for the best grades, that sort of thing. That changed when she joined the art club, but there was always an underlying need to one-up each other. Junior year, I liked this guy I met from another school. He was the first out gay guy I had met, but he was questioning his sexuality. I tried to give him the time and space he needed, but Rachel knew what was going on and how I felt and she practically jumped his bones.”

“Oh, no,” Blaine said. “You don’t go after your friends’ crushes. That’s in the rulebook.”

“I know,” Kurt said. “But I forgave her, even though she totally screwed up any chances there might have been for a relationship with me and Chandler. And I forgave her when my dad was sick and she ignored my desire to keep religion out of it. I forgave her because I wasn’t always nice to her, either. I mean, one time I gave her a makeover and turned her into slutty Sandy from Grease.”

Blaine bit his lips to keep from laughing at that. “That sounds… amusing, actually.”

“It was,” Kurt said with a grin. “What about you? Any tempestuous friendships in your past?”

Blaine was quiet for a minute while he considered the question. “Well, there was this one guy. He transferred to Dalton in my junior year. He was kind of overly aggressive in the flirting department. It made me feel both incredibly embarrassed and… I don’t know… flattered, I guess. We weren’t really friends. We competed for top awards at school shows and he resented the fact that I was our art teacher’s favorite, but he kept on with the flirting anyway. It was just a really weird relationship.”

“How did it end?” Kurt asked.

“We graduated,” Blaine shrugged. “He went to Stanford. I went to Columbia. I’ve never heard from him since.”

“What about relationships?” Kurt asked. “Anyone serious?”

“Not really,” Blaine said. “I tend to be really bad at the whole romance thing. I once ambushed a guy at the Gap with flowers and candy. He wasn’t out and was pissed because he said we weren’t even dating. He said that a few coffee dates didn’t mean anything. I was completely humiliated. Then there was James. He was my first college boyfriend. We lasted about three months before I realized that his idea of a relationship and mine didn’t match. I believed in monogamy and he didn’t. After that, there was Michael who lasted a little longer, but it was never anything serious. Finally, there was Peter. We dated for most of my junior year of college. He was a year ahead of me and we were sort of serious, but when he graduated, there was never any talk of continuing the relationship. He moved to Chicago and that was the end of it. What about you?”

“No one in high school other than that crush I mentioned,” Kurt said. “Which, as I said, never got beyond friendship. I always sort of knew I would have to get away from small-town, small-minded Ohio before I could actually find romance. But I dated a guy from NYU for a while when I was a student there. His name was Adam. He was a performing arts major at Tisch. We were pretty serious for more than a year, but he hated how much time NDAC took up. Then he moved back to London and got a job in the chorus of some production there. There really hasn’t been anyone else. At least no one that lasted more than a couple of dates.”

“It’s hard not to become a little jaded,” Blaine said quietly. “I think when I was still in Ohio, I thought that I would meet prince charming once I came to New York. But since coming here, I find that most of the guys I meet are either not nice or are not interested in anything but a quick hookup.”

“I’d pretty much given up on the fairytale, too.” Kurt gave Blaine a quick side look and said, “But you could easily be Prince Charming. With the dashing looks and dapper manners, you would make a very compelling Disney Prince.”

Blaine stopped and grabbed Kurt’s hand, blocking the sidewalk and earning them a few glares from their fellow pedestrians. “I know we just met, and I know that this sounds absolutely insane, but I think I could really fall for you, Kurt. And it isn’t just because you gave me a place to live and do my work. You move me. You are so passionate and kind and talented. I want to get to know everything there is to know about you.”

“I want to get to know you too,” Kurt said with a faint blush staining his cheeks. “I… I have to admit that your talent wasn’t the only reason I followed your career. I saw you at one of the shows and I was totally entranced by you. I would never have offered you the spot at NDAC if I didn’t think you were good enough, but… I admit to harboring ulterior motives.”

“So you’ll go on a date with me?” Blaine asked with a grin. “A real date with dinner and everything?”

“I would be honored,” Kurt said, returning his smile.

They finally started walking back toward the warehouse again, but this time with their fingers entwined the entire journey.

BKBKBKBKBK

They made a date for Friday evening, but in the meantime, both Kurt and Blaine found ways to spend time together. They had coffee up on the roof together most mornings. They discussed art and inspiration and history and politics over their lunch breaks. They even discussed their favorite music and how they each tried to use music to inspire their work. 

In that time, Blaine also met each of the other artists in the collective. One by one they either stopped by his stall or he met them in the elevator or some other common space. On Wednesday, Brittany and Santana knocked on his apartment door and delivered a welcome basket. It was decorated with ribbons in a rainbow of colors and contained muffins, coffee, a yo-yo, coloring books and a new pack of crayons. It was pretty apparent which things were Santana's suggestion and which were Brittany's idea. But after ten minutes of talking with Brittany, Blaine could easily see why Santana was so protective and why Kurt had included her in the collective; she had a truly beautiful and innocent soul.

Puck was one of the ones who stopped by Blaine's stall. On Thursday, Blaine was in the middle of sculpting the face of a man he had sketched on that first outing with Kurt in clay when Puck arrived. At first, Blaine was so involved in what he was doing that he didn't notice the other man's presence. Once he did notice, he didn't say anything right away. Puck was a pretty intimidating guy and Blaine thought it might be best to let him make the first move.

"Not bad."

"Thanks," Blaine said as he finally set aside his sculpting tools.

"I'm Puck," the guy said and reached out a hand. Blaine took a moment to wipe away the clay before shaking the offered hand. 

"Blaine."

"I know," Puck shrugged as he stepped back and began to look around the room. "Nice sketches. Any ideas for your first real project?"

"Honestly?" Blaine said with a self-deprecating smile. "I'm so used to having professors tell me what to do that I'm not really sure what I should do now that I can do whatever I want. Does that make sense?"

"I guess," Puck said without looking away from the sketch Blaine had done at the carnival of a mother and son on the carrousel. "I never really had anyone telling me what I could draw or paint. I mean, sure, in art class at school, but our teacher was happy if we could draw a straight line."

"Pardon me if I'm allowing preconceptions to influence me, but you don't really seem the type to have been much into art in high school," Blaine said. "How did you end up here?"

Puck actually laughed. "That a fancy way of saying I don't look like some art geek? Well, I wasn't. I was a badass jock. But I always liked drawing. I spent more time in school doodling than I did taking notes. Then I met Kurt because he was assigned to tutor me in Spanish... and yeah, that's a whole other weird story for another day. Anyway, Kurt saw my doodles and said I should join art club. So I did. And I figured out that the teacher couldn't teach me much, but I also figured out that there was a lot of stuff I could be doing besides doodling."

"So you're self-taught?" Blaine asked.

"Pretty much," Puck said as he finally turned to face Blaine. "I mean, I took a few lessons when I first got started with paints, but mostly I've just learned from doing. I'm not really the type to stand around talking about what a piece means. I know enough about the various forms and shit to get by. I know enough history to not sound like a moron when someone wants an interview. But most of that came from Santana and Kurt. Mostly I just paint what I feel."

"Wow," Blaine said. "I don't think I've ever had that luxury."

Puck grinned at him and said, "Well, now you do. You should do something with the carrousel sketch. There's a lot of motion and emotion in that sketch. I bet you could really make something great from that."

"Maybe," Blaine said. In truth, he had considered working from that sketch, but he just wasn't sure what he wanted to do yet. Ideally, he could carve it from wood, just like the carrousel horse the child was riding. But that was pretty ambitious for his first piece. And getting enough wood, fitting it together in pieces, making the grains match, would be complicated.

Puck left him to his thoughts without saying any more.

Sam came a little later as Blaine was actually trying to plan out how he could piece together a complete sculpture of the horse, mother and child. He had done a little research on how the old carrousel carvers would piece together the horses and other animals, so he had a starting point. He figured that the boy's torso would be one piece, his head another, and his legs would be part of the horse's body. The pole for the horse he thought he would actually use brass, since it would need to support the weight of the entire piece. The mother would be in eight pieces: the legs would be two pieces each, the torso, the two arms and the head. And the horse would have at least fourteen pieces: the body would be three pieces, with the boy's legs attached to the middle piece, the neck, the head, the tail and at least two pieces for each of the four legs. He could easily hide the joints using the natural curves of the bodies. In all, the largest pieces of wood he would need would be for the mother's torso and horse's body and neck.

"You look completely absorbed," Sam said from the doorway. "I can come back later."

Blaine set aside the sketchpad he was using to plan out the sculpture and smiled at Sam. "It's fine. I was just planning out a possible project. What's up?"

“I was heading out to get coffee,” Sam said. “Thought I’d see if you wanted to take a break.”

“Sure,” Blaine said with a smile as he set aside his drawings. They walked towards the elevator together and headed out to the street. “I still don’t know the neighborhood very well, so I’ll follow your lead.”

“There’s a decent place just up this way,” Sam said. Once they were on their way, Sam asked, “So, what made you decide to join the Funny Farm?”

Blaine smiled. “Partly, I’m sure it’s the same thing that brings everyone here: a place to live and work without having to worry about how I’m going to pay the bills. Partly it was Kurt.”

Sam grinned at him. “Good to know. So, how’s it been so far?”

“So far, everyone has been very welcoming,” Blaine said. “Even Santana, once she realized that I wasn’t going to make a play for Brittany.”

“Yeah, she can be a little protective,” Sam said ruefully and Blaine wondered if there was a story there, but chose not to ask.

“I’ve spent some time down in the gallery,” Blaine said. “Your collages are amazing.”

Sam nodded at the praise. “Thanks. You know, funny thing is that I started with macaroni art. I was bored and my dad had lost his job so we didn’t have money for much, but macaroni was cheap, so I started making pictures with the pasta and some beans for color and shading. It was just something to do since we didn’t have a TV or anything. Kurt found out about our situation and brought over some clothes he collected for me and my brother and sister one night and saw my stuff. He was so excited that I didn’t really know what to say. But he convinced me to join the art club. Puck, Kurt and Brittany were already members and where Britt goes, Santana goes. Pretty soon, we were all friends.”

Sam was quiet for a few moments. “I think Kurt kinda saved me. I was really depressed back then. I mean, things were tough for the whole family and I felt like I had to hide the fact that we were dirt poor. I was a transfer student and didn’t have many friends at all. And I knew I wasn’t the smartest guy around, so college wasn’t exactly ever going to be a goal. I figured I’d just end up working at a factory for the rest of my life. But Kurt saw potential that I never even thought was there. And when he called me up to tell me about his cracked plan to open the Funny Farm, I thought he was crazy at first, but that didn’t stop me from hopping the first bus out here.”

“Kurt does seem to have an eye for talent,” Blaine said. “You, Puck…”

“You,” Sam said. “I’ve seen some of the stuff you did for school. You fit right in around here.”

“Thanks,” Blaine said. “What about Brittany? Did Kurt get her started too?”

Sam chuckled. “I wasn’t there, so I can’t give details, but from what I understand, Britt was actually in art club before Kurt. She was convinced that her cat was an artistic genius. I think Kurt and Santana actually convinced her together that she was the one who was the artistic genius.”

“Her cat?” Blaine asked. In some ways he wasn’t surprised--Britt was a very unique girl--but in others… “Her cat?”

“Lord Tubbington,” Sam said with a nod. “He died last year. Britt was inconsolable for a long time. But some of us got together and got her another cat from a shelter. Lady Tubbington. Britt’s been happy since.”

They reached the coffee shop and put in their orders. Once they each had their drinks, they found a table near the back of the shop.

“Kurt said that you’re probably gonna move on soon?” Blaine asked, changing the subject to safer ground.

Sam nodded. “Melissa is finished with school and wants to move closer to home. Her parents live just outside of Indianapolis, and we’ve talked about moving there. So we’re looking at Indianapolis or Columbus or maybe even Cincinnati. My folks moved to Kentucky my senior year of high school, so we wouldn’t be too far from them.” Sam shrugged again. “We haven’t made any decisions yet, but I’m going to ask her to marry me next weekend. And of course part of our decision will be based on where she can find work.”

“I don’t think I could ever choose to move back to Ohio,” Blaine said quietly. “Even if my parents weren’t complete jerks about my sexuality, I don’t think I’d want to be there. I don’t have the best memories. I had to go to private school just to be safe from bullies. Granted, I made some great friends at Dalton, but…”

“I get it,” Sam said. “I don’t think Kurt will ever move back either. And he has a great relationship with his dad and step-mom. Burt and Carole are great. When my folks moved, they let me live with them for a year, so I wouldn’t have to change schools again.”

“They sound like great people,” Blaine said. “Kurt told me a little about his family, but… They just sound so different from my family.”

“It takes special people to open their home to a teenaged boy,” Sam said. “But I’m sure you’ll meet Burt and Carole soon enough. Kurt doesn’t often go home to visit, but they come to New York pretty frequently. Burt’s a congressman, and they like to take the train up from DC some weekends. Kurt says it’s so Burt can check up on him, and it probably is a little of that. Burt is a pretty protective guy. But it’s also just because they’re so close. Before Burt married Carole, it was just Kurt and Burt for a very long time.”

Blaine didn’t know what to say to that, so he didn’t say anything. In truth, he was very jealous of the close relationship that both Sam and Kurt had described. On the other hand, he was glad that not every parent ignored or neglected their kid just because they were gay.

A few minutes later, they had finished their drinks and headed back to NDAC.

“So, you and Kurt, huh?” Sam asked.

Blaine flushed. “Yeah. Um, we’re going on a date tomorrow.”

Sam grinned. “Well, don’t let Puck scare you off. When he finds out, he’ll want to do the whole protective older brother routine. He and Finn, Kurt’s step-brother, are actually best friends. But don’t let him intimidate you. Puck’s really a big teddy bear. And he respects a guy who will stand up to him.”

Blaine wasn’t sure he wanted to see Puck being protective. He had already been slightly intimidated just having the guy visit his studio. 

BKBKBKBKBK

Friday morning, on the roof, Blaine invited Kurt to go with him to pick up the wood he would need for his carrousel project. He had arranged to rent a pickup truck and would need to drive to a place he had found about an hour outside the city. Kurt decided that it would be a good opportunity for another inspirational trip.

“This doesn’t count as our date,” Kurt told him teasingly as he climbed into the front seat of the truck later. He had three cameras with him. “Where exactly is this place we’re going?”

“Bloomingdale, New Jersey,” Blaine said as he put the truck in gear and turned onto 12th Ave. He would head up to the GWB and then out route 80 until he reached 287. North for a few miles on that road and they would reach the small town that looked more like it belonged in rural Pennsylvania than in New Jersey. “There’s a guy there who runs a lumber yard, but he also supplies artists and carpenters who have specialized needs. And there’s this great little diner in town where we can have lunch. Then I thought we could stop at the quarry nearby and see if they have any cast-off blocks that might be good for sculpting. You’ll find a lot of stuff to take pictures of.”

Indeed, Kurt did find lots to photograph. While Blaine was busy inspecting various pieces of wood for flaws and to find the right sizes for his planned piece, Kurt found that the lumberyard workers were happy to have their photographs taken. The rough edges to these men and women were a direct contrast to the smooth and privileged people Kurt normally found in New York. It reminded him more of his youth spent in his father's garage. The same could be said of the people he met at the diner and the quarry.

On their way back to the city that afternoon, Blaine asked how Kurt had enjoyed the trip. Kurt said, "I think this trip was truly inspirational. I've been kind of caught up in the glamor of the city for a few years now, but this reminded me of my roots. I think maybe I want to do a series on the blue collar workers in New York, the people who make everything go, but are usually overlooked."

"I like that," Blaine said. "It could be a very interesting series."

"Did you find everything you needed?" Kurt asked.

"Well, we have a truck full of wood," Blaine said with a laugh. "I think it should be enough for the piece I'm planning. And I found a couple good sized blocks of limestone that will be delivered next week for some as yet unknown future project. So, yeah, I guess I got everything."

"So all that's left is to unload, take back the truck and get ready for our date tonight," Kurt said. "Sure you won't give me a hint about what you have planned?"


	11. New Directions Summer Theater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaine is invited to join a summer theater in the middle of nowhere, Ohio. There he meets Kurt, a successful Broadway actor and writer who is getting over a bad relationship

The drive to Roundhead Ohio was a pretty straight shot northwest on route 33 with just a short stint on the smaller route 117, but it seemed like an entirely different world to Blaine Anderson. He had been born and raised in Dublin, just north of Columbus, and had gone to boarding school in Westerville, just a couple towns over. Though those places were in Ohio, it wasn't the same Ohio he was currently driving through. This was all farms and trees and many miles between anything resembling civilization. How had he allowed himself to be talked into this?

Oh yeah, Blaine thought. It was Wesley. 

Blaine had never been able to say no to Wes. Wes had taken Blaine under his wing in his early days at Dalton Academy and Blaine had been unable to deny the man anything since. Even after Wes had graduated and gone on to Yale for college and then Blaine had graduated two years later and had gone to Columbia, Blaine still found himself roped into crazy schemes by Wes.

This time, he vowed, will be the absolute last time I give in to him. 

Turning off of the main road, following signs for the New Directions Summer Theater, Blaine swore that he was out in the middle of nowhere. It was not a good feeling. He had finally escaped Ohio six years ago and he was not happy to be back, even just for the summer. But Wes had a friend who was one of the founding members of this place and they were desperate for a tenor to take the place of some guy who had backed out at the last minute. And since Blaine couldn't find work at the moment, Wes thought it was the perfect solution.

Wes hadn't told him much about this summer theater thing, but he gathered that it was actually a pretty big deal. People from all over Ohio and even Indiana and Kentucky came to see their productions each summer. It wasn't Broadway, but it was a job and something to put on his CV. And when he had Googled the theater, he had read that the little ragtag group that had founded this theater were now mostly well-respected in the industry. Rachel Berry, Broadway's current favorite diva, was one of those founders. He also found out that Wes' friend was none other than Quinn Fabray, one of the hottest actresses in Hollywood. In fact, there were a number of famous names that had come out of this little summer theater troupe. If this backwoods theater was good enough for the likes of them, then it should be good enough for him.

The road was at least paved, Blaine noted as he drove through what seemed like a huge forest. Eventually, the trees cleared and he found that his breath was stolen from him by the sight in front of him. The road opened up on a massive outdoor amphitheater that seemed to fit right into the landscape, and yet was modern and beautiful in its own right. There was ample parking for more than a thousand cars, Blaine saw as he continued around to the road beside the visitor's center, another architecturally beautiful structure, until he found the much smaller parking lot beside the administrative building.

Blaine parked and checked the time. He still had about twenty minutes before he was expected for his interview, so he backtracked to the amphitheater and hopped the chain at one of the gates. The place was a lot bigger than he had expected. There was seating for at least two thousand people. And Wes had said they sold out almost every night, even in the rain.

The stage itself was like nothing Blaine had ever seen before. There was no back to it. It opened directly to a view of a rather large lake, and if he wasn't mistaken, it would be a beautiful sight at sunset with the sky reflected on the water. Blaine found the stairs up to the stages, well hidden from view, and took a look around. On either side of the stage he found that there was ample room to house everything that one would normally expect to see backstage. There were even stairs down below stage to what he assumed were the dressing rooms and orchestra pit. The entire stage area was covered with a white sail-like tarp that protected the performers from the weather without hindering the view or the ambiance.

"Can I help you?"

Blaine turned to find a sophisticated Asian woman in a rather fashionable designer suit crossing the stage toward him. She was smiling, so he figured he wasn't about to be yelled at for trespassing.

"I'm Blaine Anderson," Blaine said. "I have a meeting with Finn Hudson in a few minutes, but thought I'd check out the theater since I was a little early."

"You're the guy that Quinn's friend recommended," the woman said. "I'm Tina. I'm the business manager for the theater and one of four people who work here year round. I'm also the assistant choreographer. My husband Mike is the head choreographer, but he works with Columbus Dance most of the year."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Blaine said.

"I'll walk over to Finn's office with you," Tina offered. Blaine nodded and followed her back towards the administrative building, though her route was more direct than the one he had taken. "We're kind of like family here, which is why it was such a shock that Neal left with so little notice. Most of us have careers outside NDST, but this is our home and the people here are our family, so everyone just seems to come back every year. Quinn and Rachel, by far the most well-known of our group, always make time to come, even though Quinn doesn't do much stage work anymore. She's mostly on the production end when she's here."

"I read that Artie Abrams sometimes directs?" Blaine asked. He was still an up-and-comer, but he was making a real name for himself in independent films as one of the best new directors.

"Artie is another founding member," Tina confirmed. "In fact, he's directing our first show of the season. And Mercedes will be here for the final month, so she'll probably take a part in the last show. And Santana will be here all summer."

Mercedes Jones was another name that Blaine recognized. She had started out as a backup singer, but had come into her own and now had two best-selling R&B albums. Santana Lopez was another relatively famous singer who had been listed on the website as a founder.

"We were all just kids when we got started," Tina continued, oblivious to Blaine's internal monologue. "One of the girls we all went to school with wanted something to do for the summer, and her dad was super rich, so he bought this bit of land and built the theater so we could put on shows. Mr. Motta backed us all until we got enough of a following to pay our way. These days, we are completely self-sustaining. In fact, we make a pretty decent profit."

"It's hard to believe that you get that many people out here to the middle of nowhere," Blaine said.

"We're less than an hour from Columbus," Tina said with a shrug. "And even closer to the north suburbs. But we also get people from all over the country these days. We even have a regular following from pretty well known celebrities. A lot of Broadway producers want to try out new shows here." Tina shrugged. "We're the best theater troupe in the Midwest. And that's not just bragging. That's based on both critical acclaim and on dollars earned."

"Is it all musical theater?" Blaine wondered.

"Mostly," Tina said. "We usually do three musicals each summer and one play. Musicals are just more popular. We usually have to work hard to get the play tickets sold, but the musicals sell out without much more than a press release."

She led him into the admin building and they walked down a hallway filled with offices. At the end of the hall, she walked into one of the offices without even knocking. "Hey, Finn, Blaine Anderson is here."

Blaine wasn't sure what Finn Hudson had been doing on his computer, but he flushed guiltily at Tina's interruption. "Geez, Tina! A knock would be nice."

Tina just laughed. "I promise not to tell Kurt you were playing video games instead of reading through his manuscript. But you had better read that thing soon or he's going to have your head."

Finn seemed to relax. "Thanks." He finally looked over at Blaine when Tina walked out and stood up. He was a lot taller than Blaine had expected. And unlike Tina, he was wearing jeans and a simple button-down shirt. He made Blaine feel very overdressed in his tailored John Varvatos suit and bow-tie. Finn seemed to sense his discomfort. "We're pretty relaxed around here, dress wise. Tina just had a meeting with some advertisers, so that's why she was dressed up. But, my stepbrother is always dressed like he's on a runway. We pretty much accept anything. Have a seat."

Blaine did and took a look around the office. Finn decorated in typical young male style. There were sports memorabilia interspersed with framed show posters form the theater's past shows. There was even an old football jersey framed beside a team photo. So this guy was a former player, Blaine surmised.

"Well, Quinn forwarded a bunch of videos of your college performances and I think that you might really fit in with our group. You've got the right voice for what we need. And you have the acting chops that Artie demands. He's seen and approved your videos. So I guess that this meeting is less an interview/audition, than it is a meeting to see if you think you can live our crazy for the next three months."

Blaine blinked. He had prepared to perform a monologue and a song. "I... well, I'm not really sure. My friend Wes kind of pushed me into coming out here. I haven't really been able to get a break since I graduated from school."

"Columbia," Finn said. "It’s impressive academically, but not so much for a performer."

"Not when I'm competing with guys who graduated from Pace, Tisch, NYADA and Juilliard," Blaine agreed. "I can't get past the chorus."

"I know how that is," Finn said. "I went to Pace and couldn't get a role to save my life after graduation. But at least I had my summers up here. Then I broke up with my girlfriend and decided to stay up here year round. I love this place. We all do, even those who only come for the summer."

"So, Tina was saying that you put on three musicals and a play each summer?" Blaine asked.

"Right," Finn said. "We rehearse all four for the first three weeks and then we concentrate for a week on the first musical. Then we do nine days of performances, with extra matinees on weekends. Then we do an intensive four days of rehearsal for the next show with a day off in the middle and then another nine days of performances. It keeps on like that through the summer. It's pretty intense and there isn't a lot of downtime. On the up side, as a performer, you'll get a lot of experience in a short time period, plus we look really good on your CV. And then the pay is pretty good, too."

Blaine had to agree with that. Wes had mentioned the salary to him and it had been better than most of the shows in New York offered. "The salary was surprising."

"You'll earn every penny," Finn said. "One day off every two weeks and a heavy work load gets exhausting. But we have a limited window to put on our shows and have to make the most of every weekend."

Blaine nodded at that. "Where does everyone stay?"

Finn grinned. "Let's take a tour. I hate sitting in the office all day. I can show you the cast and crew housing."

Blaine followed Finn out of the office and out the back door to the building. The door let out onto a path through the surrounding woods. Blaine was glad to see that there were lights every few yards, because this would be extremely dark at night.

"This property used to be a summer camp," Finn told Blaine. "So after Mr. Motta bought it for Sugar and the rest of us, he had the old cabins and facilities updated for us. Most of the crew stays in what used to be the camp staff housing. It’s a lot like dorm living." As Finn explained, he began pointing out buildings through the trees and Blaine saw other paved paths that led through the woods to those buildings. "The cast are housed in the old camper cabins. They have been split into either two apartments or four individual rooms. You'd be in one of the apartments. Actually, you'd share a cabin with Kurt."

"Kurt is your step-brother?" Blaine asked.

"Yeah," Finn agreed. "Kurt Hummel. You might have heard of him. He's been in a few shows in New York, but he's getting more recognition these days for his writing."

"Wait, didn't he write Glory Boys?" Blaine asked. "That show won seven Tonys last year."

"That's him," Finn said. He turned up one of the side paths towards one of the cabins. "This would be your cabin."

It really was a cabin; made from logs and everything. But it was not the rustic structure that Blaine had feared. Inside the half of the cabin that would be Blaine's, the apartment was quite spacious and the furnishings were both modern and comfortable. The main room had a small kitchen and eating area besides the sitting area situated around the fireplace. The bedroom was also appointed with comfortable and sturdy furniture that somehow managed to look modern at the same time. There was a large walk-in closet. The bathroom had a separate shower and a tub large enough for two people. In all, it was a lot larger and nicer than Blaine's place in New York.

Finn showed him to the back of the cabin where there was parking and the road that circled around the camp buildings before heading back to the main walking path. 

"Down here is the dining hall and community room," Finn said as they reached the end of the path. "Everyone can eat meals here, but you can also cook for yourself if you prefer. And the community room is pretty great. A lot of us hang out after rehearsals and play cards or watch movies. There's a pool table and video games. And vending machines, just in case you want a snicker's bar at three in the morning."

From the way Finn said it, Blaine got the feeling that Finn often got the urge for a candy bar at three in the morning. He kept that thought to himself as Finn showed him the swimming pool that was off to the side of the community room and then they began the trek back to the admin building. 

"We actually own a lot of the land around us," Finn said. "If it's woods, then it's probably ours."

"You keep saying ours," Blaine said. "But I thought that Mr. Motta paid for all this."

"He did," Finn said. "But he let us earn shares in the company when we were getting it off the ground. We still give shares as part of the salary for some cast members. Anyway, after a while, we owned more of it than he did so we bought him out. I'm not really sure how all that works. Tina, Quinn and Kurt handled stuff like that. Now Tina has a staff of accountants and marketing people. I just coordinate the creative side of things. Like hiring directors and actors and helping decide which shows we'll do."

"Tina said that there are four of you who are here year round?" Blaine asked.

"Yeah," Finn said. "Joe's in charge of the technical stuff and hiring the crews. He's really good at his job, but getting him to wear shoes is a real trial. And then there's Puck. He's in charge of the facilities. He makes sure the theater is in order and repairs are taken care of. He also makes sure the cabins and grounds are maintained. He's got a pretty big crew."

"And the rest just come for the summer?" Blaine asked. "Is everyone in showbiz?"

"Not everyone," Finn said. "Sam is a teacher. Sugar got married and doesn't really work. Then again, she doesn't really do much here, either. But she does bring in some pretty wealthy patrons."

"And you all went to high school together?" Blaine asked with awe. As talented as he and his friends in his show choir had been, he had been the only one who had pursued performing as a career.

"All of the founders, yeah," Finn said. "Not all of the actors and crew we have now. Those come and go. But the core group is pretty steady and we all knew each other in high school. In fact we were all in glee club together. Our old teacher comes out and does some shows, too. He's a pretty good performer in his own right."

They arrived back at Finn's office and Finn looked at Blaine closely. "So? What do you think? Ready to move out here for the next three months?"

Blaine considered everything for a long minute before nodding. "Yeah, I think I am."

Finn grinned at him. "That's great. The cast will start arriving next week to begin rehearsals. You'll need to be back and moved in by then. I'll give you the scripts for the four shows we'll be doing before you leave. And the final casting will be done by the various directors in the first couple days. I think you'll really fit in with our little troupe."

Part Two

Kurt sighed as he unpacked his bag in his cabin. It was the same cabin that he had been using since the very first summer. In a way, it was like coming home again, but in a way, it was all very different. For the past three years, he had been sharing this cabin with Neal. Well, sharing in the sense that it was a single structure. They had never actually shared living space, no matter how many times Kurt had tried to get the other man to just make the move. It wasn't like everyone at NDST didn't know they were sleeping together. But Neal had insisted and now Kurt understood why.

It had been a shock to discover that his lover of three years had been cheating on him—or, to be more accurate, had been cheating on his wife with Kurt. Kurt had never known that Neal was married. They had met at Neal's first summer at NDST and had become lovers almost immediately. After the summer ended, they had both returned to New York and had continued their affair. They had gone on dates and spent weekends together, but Neal had never wanted to move their relationship to the next level.

Now Kurt knew that it was because Neal had a wife and two children at home. The fact that Neal lived in Brooklyn had always been his excuse for staying at Kurt's place in Manhattan instead. But in the three years they had been together, Kurt had never thought to question the fact that he had never seen Neal's apartment. Or the fact that Neal never once acknowledged their relationship to anyone. He wouldn't even hold Kurt's hand in public. Kurt had simply chalked it up to him disliking public displays of affection. 

Kurt snorted in disgust. Right. Neal had no problem showing affection in public. In fact, Kurt had discovered his lover's duplicity because he and Rachel had gone out to Coney Island one afternoon and saw Neal and his wife and two children there. Neal had no problem kissing and hugging and practically fucking his wife in public.

A part of Kurt had wanted to go right up to him and demand an explanation, but the presence of the two children had stopped him. Based on what he could see from a distance, Neal was obviously a good father, even if he was a no good cheating liar. There was no way he wanted to destroy a family. So he had bided his time and confronted Neal the next time he showed up at Kurt's door.

It had been an ugly scene. But the end result was that Neal was out of Kurt's life. Unfortunately, that also meant that NDST lost one of their top performers at the last minute.

Kurt had yet to meet the new guy, but he was eternally grateful for the fact that Quinn had been able to find someone suitable with few questions asked. If Finn found out what Neal had done, he would fly to New York and accost the man, no matter if his kids were present or not. And he'd probably take Puck and Sam with him.

No one but Rachel knew about Neal's duplicity and Kurt wanted it to stay that way. As far as anyone else was concerned, Neal had backed out because he got another offer. That was the story Kurt fed to the man when he demanded that he stay as far away from him as humanly possible. If Neal ignored his request, Kurt wouldn't be quite so discreet in getting rid of him the next time.

Over the past ten years, Kurt had really made this cabin his own. Unlike what he knew was next door, this space was very personalized. Kurt had framed show posters and personal photos around the room, along with little mementos and books on the two bookshelves. He had a throw blanket that Carole had knitted on the back of his sofa and throw pillows. This really was his home away from home.

It was with this thought in mind that Kurt's quietude was interrupted by the sound of a car door shutting outside. His new neighbor had arrived. Kurt wasn't sure how he felt about that, but he was curious enough to take a peek out the window. He had seen the same videos that Quinn had sent to all of the founders, so he knew what Blaine Anderson looked like. But that was on stage. That was in costume and with hair and makeup done. Kurt believed that you could tell a lot about a person by the way they dressed, and seeing how Blaine Anderson dressed when he wasn't on stage was the biggest reason for Kurt's spying.

Kurt couldn't see him at first because he had his head in the trunk of his car. But the car was impressive, at least. It was an ice-blue Porsche boxster and it looked new. Then Blaine closed the trunk and Kurt got his first good look at the man. He had short curly hair that was tamed with a bit more gel than Kurt would have recommended, but he looked great nonetheless. He was wearing red capris with black loafers--no socks-- and a cream polo with a red sweater vest. But the piece de resistance was the candy-cane striped bow-tie at his neck. Oh, this boy was definitely gay.

Blaine's taste in fashion was vasty different than Kurt's but it was still pretty edgy with a preppie flair. Kurt definitely approved. 

Perhaps a fling with the new guy would help Kurt get over his bruised ego?

BKBKBKBKBK

Blaine noticed the eyes peeking from behind the curtains in his neighbor's suite, but chose not to acknowledge them. If he had been in the other man's shoes, he would be curious about the new guy, too. Instead, Blaine carried in his suitcases and began to unpack. He had just finished an hour later when there was a knock at his door. When Blaine opened the door, he found Kurt Hummel.

After discovering that Kurt Hummel of NDST was the same Kurt Hummel who had won several Tonys for his musical, Blaine had Googled the man. Not only had he won Tonys for his musical, but he had also won for best supporting actor for his work in the Hair revival a few years back. And he had been nominated for his portrayal of Alan Strang in Equus. The Broadway blogs also had rumors that he was slated to play Peter Pan in an upcoming revival, though there was no confirmation.

Blaine had also read a bit about his personal life in his bio. The man who stood before him now had done all of that after having been turned down for NYADA on his first attempt. But Kurt Hummel had come back and gotten in on his second attempt--something almost unheard of--and had then proceeded to blow through his courses with ease. After spending two years at NYADA, Kurt took his associates degree and had transferred to NYU to study other aspects of musical theater, including playwriting and composition. In his senior year at NYU, he wrote and starred in the theater department's annual spring musical. He received critical acclaim for both his writing and performance.

"Hello," Blaine said a little breathlessly. He didn't really want to sound like a fan boy, but he couldn't quite help himself.

"Hi, I'm Kurt," Kurt said with a smile. "Your neighbor. I brought you some muffins to welcome you to the neighborhood."

Blaine looked down at the basket of muffins that were still steaming from the oven. "Wow. Um, thanks. Would you... would you like to come in? I haven't checked the kitchen out yet, but Finn said it would be stocked with the bare essentials. I'm pretty sure that includes coffee."

"Coffee sounds wonderful." Kurt smiled and stepped into the suite. He followed Blaine into the kitchen and set the basket on the counter before taking a seat on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. "The coffee should be in the cupboard above the coffee maker."

Blaine found the coffee and the filters and soon had a pot brewing. He turned back to Kurt and smiled. "I really hate to sound like a crazy fan, but I just have to tell you how much I loved Glory Boys. The story was fantastic and the music even better."

"Thanks," Kurt said. "We're doing one of my musicals this summer, so maybe you'll like that one too. I saw some of your videos and I think you would be perfect for one of the leads, but I don't make the casting decisions. That's up to the director."

"Thanks," Blaine said as he found mugs and plates and then sugar and milk. He set everything on the counter and waited for the coffee to brew.

"So, tell me, what brings you all the way out to Ohio?" Kurt asked. "You went to Columbia, right?"

"I did," Blaine said. "I graduated two years ago, but haven't been able to get beyond chorus boy in New York. My friend Wes knows Quinn so when the spot here opened up, he convinced me, against my better judgment to come out and talk to Finn."

"Against your better judgment?" Kurt asked.

"Oh, um, yeah," Blaine said with a blush. "Nothing against NDST. I grew up in Ohio and had absolutely no desire to come back. Ever."

Kurt chuckled. "I thought I would never want to come back when I left, too. But I love it here. It's a great way to get away from the rat race every summer. We work really hard, but we have fun doing it. And we make some pretty good money from it, too. And the homophobes pretty much steer clear of all us weird actors in Roundhead. It's not so bad."

"It's not just the homophobes I wanted to avoid," Blaine admitted. "My family... well, let’s just say that they paid me a lot of money to get rid of me for good."

Kurt frowned. "I'm sorry. You know, I've met a lot of gay men in New York, and you certainly aren't the first that has had a crappy family story, but I can never really get over how a parent can be like that. Parents are supposed to love their kids no matter what. And being gay certainly isn't something bad in my opinion."

"Let me guess, you come from a supportive home," Blaine said. There was no derision or judgment in his tone. There was a hint of jealousy, though. 

Kurt nodded. "When I came out to my father, he told me he had always known. I asked for a pair of sensible heals for my third birthday. He's a pretty down to earth guy, but he was very supportive, even when he didn't always understand. It was his support that got me through the worst of the bullying. We still have a great relationship."

"When the bullying got bad, my parents used it as an excuse to ship me off to boarding school," Blaine said. "But, I made very good friends at Dalton, so I can't really complain. Wes, David, Nick and Jeff are still some of my best friends."

Kurt chuckled. "It's amazing. They say that you tend to outgrow your friends from high school. Either that or you all go in different directions and lose touch. But here I am, still spending every summer with my high school friends. And you're still close with you friends from high school."

"I suppose that is unusual," Blaine shrugged. "But I'm glad I have those guys. And we did all split up for college, but we've all ended up in New York over the past two years."

"Well, just me, Rachel, Unique, Santana and Brittany are in New York," Kurt said. "A lot of us are still in Ohio. Artie, Mercedes and Quinn are out in LA. But we still manage to keep in touch through the year."

"What was it like here back at the beginning?" Blaine asked as he poured the coffee into the two mugs.

Kurt smiled. "It was... not this nice. The first couple years, we were still in high school and we stayed in the old cabins. They weren't anything like this. And we didn't have the amphitheater then. We had an old pavilion with a tiny stage. It only seated about five hundred people. That first summer, it was a struggle to get just one musical on the stage. And we never filled more than half of the seats in the old pavilion. That was the summer between my junior and senior year of high school."

"You guys were so young," Blaine said. "I think I spent the summer between junior and senior year sitting by Wes' pool."

Kurt shrugged. "We were too young to know that we couldn't succeed. Those first years, we made all our own costumes and did the lighting and set ourselves. Tina, Quinn and Sugar did all the marketing. But by the end of our third year, we were filling every seat of the pavilion for every show and had worked our way up to putting on four shows. That's when Mr. Motta decided that we could expand."

Kurt took a sip of his coffee and shook his head at the memories. "I remember coming back from college, expecting to see the same place we left. Instead we found this." Kurt waved his hand around. "It was a shock, but a good one. We didn't add the admin building or visitor's center and gift shop until later, but the rest is just the same as it was that day."

"And he let you guys earn shares in the business?" Blaine asked.

"At first, we weren't really making enough to get paid," Kurt said. "So that was the agreement. We had contracts and everything. Mr. Motta almost doubled his investment before he turned it over to us six years ago. He never wanted to be in showbiz. He just did it to make Sugar happy. And she still is. She doesn't really do much besides show off the place to wealthy patrons and sponsors. But she's gotten interest from some investors in opening a hotel out by the road. And there are plans to open up a few restaurants this summer. We bring a lot of business to this area. And the hotel would be owned in part by NDST, Inc."

Blaine shook his head in bewilderment. "You guys have done so much in such a short period of time. Not only have you started up a very successful business, but you have each succeeded in your own careers, besides. I can't even get out of the chorus."

"You're out of the chorus now," Kurt pointed out. "You are one of the six lead actors in a nationally recognized theater. And I know that Tina offered you shares of the business as part of your salary package, so you're part of NDST, too. Plus I think you'll find that a summer here will change how you are received in New York."

"Is that what happened for you?" Blaine asked. He tried one of the muffins and found that it was absolutely fantastic. And obviously homemade. Kurt must have a lot more in his kitchen than the essentials Blaine had found so far in his own kitchen.

"Sort of," Kurt shrugged. "My performance achievements were pretty much because of my school successes. NDST wasn't as popular then. But getting backing for Glory Boys was totally because of NDST. We premiered it here two summers ago and backers saw the show." Kurt shrugged. "The rest is history."

Blaine nodded and ate silently for a moment before asking his next question. "Why me? I mean, if you guys have such a great reputation, why pick a guy who hasn't got any professional credits beyond chorus boy #3?"

"Well, technically, Finn chose you," Kurt said with a small smile. "But you've probably figured out by now that we all tend to put in our two-cents. I can tell you that your work at Columbia was impressive. But what really made a difference was the backing of Quinn. We care almost as much about how a person can fit into our little family as we do about their talent. From what your friend Wes told Quinn, she figured you would be a good fit. And then Finn met you and decided that Quinn was right. So here you are."

Blaine chuckled. "So you took the word of my best friend that I'm a great guy."

"Basically," Kurt said with a smile. "But one of our best friends trusts your best friend, so it works." Kurt finished his coffee and stood up. "Well, I better get back to unpacking. We have our first read-through tomorrow morning and I have yet to get through the play we're doing. Will I see you at dinner?"

Blaine considered the question. He really wanted to get settled in, but he also wanted to meet the rest of the group, too. "Yeah, I'll be there."

"Good," Kurt said with a smile. "I'll stop by on my way and we can walk together."

BKBKBKBKBK

Blaine closed the door behind Kurt and went back to grab another muffin. Kurt was nothing like he expected him to be. Considering his success in New York, he had expected more ego and less welcome wagon. But he was happy to have been wrong. And the chemistry between the two of them was unmistakable. There was definitely something there. Whether it had the potential to be more than just friends or not was yet to be determined, but Blaine was going to find out.

Part Three

Dinner at NDST was an experience. Between the main cast, the chorus, the crew, and the facilities staff there were more than seventy people living on the campus. And everyone showed up for that first meal together. There was more than enough room in the dining hall, but it made for a very loud and boisterous meal. 

Kurt took the time to introduce Blaine to as many people as possible. There was no way that Blaine would remember everyone. But he did learn that most people, even the crew, were regulars. There were only about ten new people there and most of them were in the chorus. The ages ranged from fourteen to sixty-seven, though most of the cast was in their twenties. 

Blaine was most excited to meet the founders. They were all there for the first weekend. Mercedes would have to go back to LA for some events. Meeting Rachel Berry was an experience that Blaine would never forget. She was the stereotypical Broadway diva. But Quinn was pretty down to earth. Sugar was pretty ditzy and talked about money a lot. Sam was kind and Blaine learned that he taught phys ed at a nearby elementary school. He wouldn't be able to be there in the daytime for the first two weeks, but he would come after school hours and then be there for the rest of the summer. Artie was an interesting guy to talk to. He had some pretty unique ideas for how to stage Sweeney Todd, their first show of the season. Puck looked like a pool boy and had a Mohawk, but he seemed nice enough. Mike and Tina were both great. Santana scared him, but her partner Brittany was very innocent and quirky. Unique was... a drag queen and wouldn't be staying past the first week. She apparently was co-owner of a club in New York and getting time away was difficult. Joe was like Jesus with dreadlocks, but he was very nice and didn't seem to have anything against gay people in general or Blaine specifically. Finn was there, but he seemed to be avoiding Rachel and didn't say much to Blaine or Kurt.

By the end of dinner, Blaine felt like he really could fit in with these people, even with all their idiosyncrasies.

He learned that the other lead actors were Kurt, Geoff, Mary and Ashley, but Quinn, Mercedes, Santana and Rachel would each take a role in one of the productions. Blaine was excited at the prospect of acting with any of them. The three lead actors who were not founders were all accomplished performers and had been with NDST for at least three years. Blaine was definitely the new kid. But he put his prep-school charm to work and seemed to make a good first impression.

"So," Kurt said as they walked back to their cabin a few hours later. "What did you think?"

"I think this is going to be an interesting summer," Blaine said. "And I think it will be fun."

"Good," Kurt said with a smile. 

They walked along in silence for a while. It wasn't until they reached their respective doors that Blaine spoke again. "I really hope to get to play opposite you in Wake Up Justin. It's a great story."

Kurt smiled. "I hope so too."

BKBKBKBKBK

Blaine woke up early the next day and decided to take a run along the road circling the property. Afterwards, he took a quick dip in the pool to cool off and to swim a few laps. It was as he was returning to the cabin that he saw Kurt on the small patch of lawn outside their cabin. He was doing yoga with the early morning light filtering through the trees and dappling his skin. It was a beautiful and arousing sight. He just stood there staring for a few minutes before Kurt turned to look at him. Blaine blushed and continued on his way into the cabin to get dressed for the day

Blaine couldn't hold off the blush that colored his face when he saw Kurt again an hour later as they both left the cabin to head for breakfast at the same time. "I um... I'm sorry if I interrupted your yoga before."

Kurt shrugged. "I didn't mind. I find that if I practice outside, I will occasionally get ogled. But that's not such a bad thing."

"You are extremely flexible," Blaine blurted out.

Kurt chuckled. "Yes, I am."

Blaine took a deep breath. "Sorry. I sound like a pervert. I don't mean to be creepy."

"You aren't," Kurt said with a small smile. "You were pretty hot, too, in just your running shorts. I noticed."

Blaine blushed again. "Oh. Um, thanks?"

Thankfully, they reached the dining hall before Blaine could make more of a fool of himself.

BKBKBKBKBK

Artie was the director for the first production, so he got first go at casting. They didn't like to use the same people for lead in every show, but they also wanted to get the best fit for each part. Artie had them all read in various groupings before asking them to sing various songs so he could get an idea how the pairings sounded together. After two hours, Artie had made his decision and Blaine had been cast as Sweeney Todd with Rachel as his Mrs. Lovett. Kurt would play Anthony Hope and Ashley would play Johanna. Leaving Geoff to play the judge and Mary to play Lucy. The part of Tobias was given to the youngest chorus member, a boy named Jerry who had been recommended by Mr. Schuster, the founders' former teacher. He was technically too old for the part, but he looked and sounded younger than his 14 years. 

They took a quick fifteen minute break before going back to cast the second show. The director was Martin James, someone that Blaine had never heard of, but he seemed nice enough. He was directing Private Lives by Noel Coward. There was no need to consider voices for this one, and there were only four main characters and one minor character in the entire play. That meant that the chorus could take a couple hours off. It also meant that one of the lead actors wouldn't have a role at all in the play. Blaine was actually hoping it would be him, since he really felt that his strength was in the music.

After reading with all three women, Blaine was then asked to read with Kurt. "What?"

"Just go with it," Martin said with a smile. "I just want to see something."

Kurt and Blaine read from the second act, where Elyot and Amanda are cuddling together before devolving into another of their many arguments.

"Yes, that's the chemistry I'm looking for," Martin said.

"I'm not playing a woman," Kurt said blandly. "Not even if you change her name."

"Kurt..." Finn said lowly.

"No, Finn," Kurt said stubbornly. "I refuse to play a woman's role. You wouldn’t ask anyone else to do that. And don’t pretend that you would do it. We both know that’s a lie."

"What if Blaine played Amanda?" Martin suggested.

"I'd really rather not," Blaine said a little timidly.

"Can’t you just cast the parts as they are?" Kurt insisted.

Finn and Artie whispered something to Martin and he sighed. "Fine. Geoff will play Elyot, Quinn will be Amanda, Mary will be Sybil, Kurt will be Victor and Ashley will be Louise." 

"Thank you," Kurt said with a huff.

They broke for a late lunch and Kurt and Blaine walked towards the dining room together. "We really were pretty good together. He was right. We have chemistry."

"We can have chemistry in my musical," Kurt said. "Where we're both playing men."

"I'd rather have that lead, anyway," Blaine said with a shrug. "It's a really great musical. I can't wait to see how it's received."

"Well, James had just better cast it properly," Kurt said.

BKBKBKBKBK

After lunch, Mike took over for the third production. This was his first attempt at directing, but everyone seemed to think he was going to do great at it. He was directing Company. It was no surprise that Mike cast Kurt as Bobby. What was surprising was that since the cast list was so large, he cast some of the other founders in those roles. Santana got Joanne, one of Blaine's favorite roles in any show. Brittany was cast as April. Tina was cast as Amy, the bride with cold feet. Finn was cast as Harry. Mary was cast as Sarah, Ashley as Susan, Geoff as Peter, Blaine as David, and Artie as Larry. The rest of the parts were filled in by people from the chorus. Personally, Blaine couldn't wait to see Kurt sing Being Alive.

There was another break for dinner, since the casting took so long, but then they were finally back and James was ready to see them all interact. Without having read a word, he gave Blaine the part of Justin, the young man going through a sexual identity crisis. Kurt read the part of Kyle, his best friend and love interest. Mercedes read for Lydia, Kyle's fag hag. Throughout the casting, he kept the three of them in those leading roles and fitted the others into place around them. And when it was all over, they were officially given those roles.

BKBKBKBKBK

The next days were hectic. Blaine continued to start his day with a run and a swim, and he noticed that Kurt continued to do his morning yoga. After breakfast, they spent two hours in the dance studio with Mike, Tina, and Brittany. Then they had vocal training for their various songs with a woman named Shelby. After lunch, they would work on reading and blocking for a different show each day. When their first day off finally came, Blaine was exhausted.

"Get used to it," Kurt told him on the way to breakfast that morning. "This is showbiz. When I'm on Broadway, we've often got even longer days and days off are a rarity."

"Once the show is being presented, the schedule has to get better," Blaine said. "Doesn't it?"

Kurt shrugged. "In a way. We don't have the long rehearsals, but we do still dance every day and do vocal warm-ups. And then we put a lot of energy into the actual performance. Plus, we have both matinees and evenings every weekend. But we do get to sleep in a bit and we do like to hang out after the shows a bit more than we do now."

"Well, I for one can't wait," Blaine said. "What are you doing for your day off?"

"Well, I have to meet with wardrobe to approve the costumes this morning," Kurt said. "It's sort of been my unofficial job since the beginning. After that, I thought I might head up to see my father and Carole. Wanna come along?"

"Actually, I'd love the chance to see where you all went to school," Blaine said. "Any school that launched this many talented and successful people must be doing something right."

Kurt laughed outright at that. They split up for a few minutes to get their food, and then they joined a few of the other founders at one of the tables. Many people had opted to sleep in on their day off, so there weren't many people around. But Kurt was still chuckling when they got to the table.

"What's so funny?" Mike asked.

"Blaine thinks that McKinley must be a great school to have launched so many successful people," Kurt said with another snort of amusement. Mike and Tina both laughed. Puck and Sam just sort of stared at Blaine like he was crazy.

"What?" Blaine asked a little defensively.

"Most of us barely survived McKinley," Tina said. 

"The slushies," Mike groaned.

"The locker checks," Sam complained.

"The dumpster dives," Kurt said and shot a look at Puck.

"Hey, dude," Puck said while holding up his hands defensively. "How many times do I have to apologize for that shit?"

"For the rest of your life," Kurt said sweetly, though Blaine could tell he was teasing. It was obvious that no matter what had happened back in high school that these two had dealt with it a long time ago.

"Not cool," Puck sighed. "But, yeah, McKinley was like the worst example of teenaged pecking order. Jocks were at the top of the heap and glee kids were at the bottom."

"But then we got several of the jocks to join glee," Tina said. "And that totally threw off the delicate balance."

"Which made a lot of people pissed off," Mike said. 

"And then there were the homophobes," Kurt said with a slight shudder. 

The others all gave Kurt a sympathetic look and Blaine wondered just how bad it had gotten for Kurt. He had been fortunate enough to be able to escape to a safe place, but kids like Kurt didn't have that option.

"Remember after we won Nationals?" Tina asked the others.

Sam grinned. "That was cool."

"The whole school was waiting for us and had slushie cups," Puck said. "We thought we were in for the mother of all slushies."

"But they were filled with confetti," Kurt said. "For the final weeks of my senior year, we were actually respected at that school."

"It didn't last long," Tina said. "Those of us who didn't graduate that year went back and found that popularity is a very fleeting thing. But it was nice while it lasted. And the worst of the bullying had been curbed by then so it wasn't so bad."

“Maybe it’s true what they say,” Blaine said. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I mean, look at where you all are now. That’s pretty impressive.”

“Maybe,” Kurt said. “I know I’ve always been motivated by the desire to prove those assholes wrong.”

“So you guys are heading up to Lima today?” Sam asked.

“I want to see my dad and Carole,” Kurt said.

“How’s he doing since he lost the election last year?” Tina asked.

“Election?” Blaine asked.

“He was a congressman,” Kurt said. “He was elected my senior year of high school and held his seat until this year. And he’s doing pretty well, actually. He’s been looking at expanding the business since Jake’s been doing so well at running the garage while he was off playing politics. I think he’s found a site in Findlay that he likes, so it probably won’t be long until he’s splitting his time between two shops.”

“That’s great,” Sam said. “I still always take my car up to Hummel Tire and Lube for any maintenance. He runs the most honest shop around.”

“And it doesn’t hurt that he gives all of us NDST kids a discount,” Mike said with a grin.

“Tell him we said hi,” Tina said. 

BKBKBKBKBK


	12. Hybrid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt is a cat hybrid who is sent to Dalton for his safety. This story mentions Mpreg.

Hybrids had been around for more than one hundred years, the result of some unscrupulous scientists teaming up with slave traders to create a race of sex slaves. Using the genetic materials of domesticated animals, they attempted to create a submissive and affectionate slave that craved sex from their masters. The scheme however, did not work out quite the way they had planned. While they were successful in crossing the genetic materials, the resulting being was neither more docile nor any more interested in sex than any other human. In addition, the hybrids retained certain physical and instinctual traits of the animals that seemed off-putting to the slave traders of the time.

When the experiment failed, the scientists were ordered to destroy all the hybrids, but one particularly compassionate man had become attached to his creations. Rather than destroying them, he set them free. And from that first generation of freed hybrids, the race was born. 

At least that was one commonly accepted theory. In truth, no one really knew how or where hybrids came from. All that was really known was that they had begun to appear in the 1890's. Since then, genetic research had been conducted—sometimes dubious in intent, like the experiments done in Nazi prison camps—and it was proved that these people were actually human, but they simply had certain animal characteristics in their DNA. The most common were the bunny and dog hybrids, but there were also cat and several bird hybrids. And among those hybrids, there were variations in breeds, just as in their full animal counterparts.

Hybrids were rare at first, though as the decades passed, they became more common. In fact, it was estimated that by the year 2000, 1 in 1,500 people, or more than 4 million people worldwide, were either hybrid or had traceable recessive hybrid genes. In the United States, where it was believed that the hybrids were created and first released, that number was closer 1 in 700, or more than 450,000 people. Using those basic statistics, in a city the size of Lima, Ohio that meant that there were, theoretically, 55 people who were hybrids or carriers of the gene, and 15 of those people should be under the age of 18. In reality, there was only one person who showed any visible hybrid characteristics: Kurt Hummel.

Kurt had done the math a thousand times and he knew that there must be other people who lived in Lima who shared his genetic heritage, but they were all smart enough not to say so. In a small, rather backwards city like Lima, it was best not to advertise anything that made you different. So if those other people didn’t have traits that showed, there was no way they would advertise their status. 

Unfortunately for Kurt, there was no way for him to hide his hybrid heritage. It was as plain as the cat ears on his head and the tail on his ass. His life in Lima was miserable because the people who lived there simply could not, or would not, accept a hybrid. Kurt could certainly understand why cities like New York, Chicago and San Francisco had an unusually large concentration of hybrids.

Kurt could certainly understand why those people avoided living in places like Lima. Things were never easy for him. When he started school, all the other children wanted to pet him as if he was actually the class pet rather than a student like them. That lasted for the first couple years, and as much as Kurt hated being touched by their grubby hands, he hated when those pets turned to taunts even more. 

By middle school, the taunts had turned to more physical forms of tormenting the sole hybrid. The kids would tug at his tail as he walked down the hall. They would flick his ears. They would pinch him to hear him yowl. Any time Kurt tried to stand up to them, things just got worse. Kurt found that hiding was so much more effective, and so knew every hiding spot in the school before the first three months was up. He could curl up into a tight little ball and squeeze into spaces where his tormentors would never think to look.

In high school, things got worse again. Most of the kids were content to stick to the same tugging and taunting and pinching that they had used to torture him for years. But there were several jocks who felt the need to take things further. They shoved him into lockers and tossed him into the dumpster and called him an alley cat and threatened to have him neutered. It was when they shoved him down the stairs to "see if he would land on his feet" that everything changed.

For years, Kurt had been tormented and not a single teacher stood up for him. For years, he had tried to get someone, anyone, to see what kind of hell he was going through. His father had made a point of going to the principal of each of his schools each time Kurt would come home hurt. But nothing was ever done. They were told that there was nothing they could do.

But when Kurt ended up in the hospital for two weeks, and in a leg cast for nearly two months, Burt had finally had enough of being pushed around. He hired a lawyer who called in national hybrid protection organizations who brought in more lawyers. And those lawyers found that there were numerous videos of Kurt being tormented on the internet, posted by Kurt’s peers. Some were even posted by the perpetrators, bragging about what they had done to the "faggot cat-boy". In those videos, it was clear that not only had the students known what was going on, but so had the teachers. On at least four separate occasions, teachers were caught watching the acts of violence and turning away.

With Burt's complaints to the school and the school board well documented, along with the videos, their lawyers kicked ass in court. They were treating the entire thing as a hate crime, and it truly was. There were laws to protect hybrids and the school and the teachers had broken those laws by allowing the bullying to continue unchecked. While Kurt spent the remainder of his junior year of high school being tutored (the school had no choice but to comply since he was medically housebound), their lawyers sued the school, the teachers who saw Kurt shoved down the stairs and the students who had injured him. 

By the time June rolled around, Kurt's lawyers had ensured that several people, including the students who had hurt him, were spending time on probation doing community service and would have felony convictions on their records for the rest of their lives. In addition, they had won enough money to pay for Kurt to go to private school his final year of high school, pay for any college he wanted, cover graduate school tuition, and still have a nice sized nest egg to live on the rest of his life. It didn't make up for years of fear and torture, but it was something.

GLEE

"Are you sure that you want to go away to school?" Burt asked with a frown. "I thought we'd have another year together before you ran off on me."

"Dad, there really aren't any private schools close enough for me to attend as a day student," Kurt said. He had spent a lot of time while recovering at home researching private schools within a 100 mile radius. "And there are only a couple schools that effectively enforce a zero tolerance bullying policy."

Burt sighed. "I know. And I know I'll get to see you on weekends. It's just... It's hard to see you growing up. Next year I won't even get weekends."

"Well, I haven't even applied to any colleges yet," Kurt said. "And now I know that I'll have the money to come visit sometimes."

"I know," Burt said again. "I just don't have to like letting you go, but I have to do it. Do you... do you think you'll make friends at this new school?"

Kurt shrugged. "I don't know. It would be nice, but I'm not holding my breath. My goal is to graduate alive and in one piece. Anything else is just icing."

"But you said that there are other Hybrids at this school, right?" Burt asked.

"Six," Kurt confirmed. "I checked out their online yearbook and found six hybrids: three dogs, two bunnies and a bird."

"Maybe you should email one of them over the summer," Burt suggested. "They might be able to tell you a little bit about what to expect."

Kurt looked doubtful but said, "Maybe."

GLEE

Once he was able to get around without a cast, Kurt spent most of his summer working in his father's garage. The guys were used to having him around and he rarely had to actually talk with the customers, so it was a comfortable way to pass the time and earn a little extra money. He still had physical therapy twice a week, but it wasn't a bad summer, all in all.

Kurt did end up sending contacting the six hybrids he found at Dalton on Facebook. He found out that three of them graduated--one of the dogs, one of the bunnies and the bird--but they were happy to relate their experiences, which were almost all positive. 

Trent, the remaining bunny hybrid, and Jeff, one of the dog hybrids, both seemed pretty great. Kurt emailed back and forth with them several times over the summer and they were both looking forward to meeting him come September. Kurt felt a little better, knowing that he might actually have friends when he started his new school. He had never before had friends. Even the kids who didn't torment him in school were wary of being his friend for fear of being caught up in the bullying.

So, when the time came for Kurt to pack up his things and head for Westerville, he was actually pretty excited. Burt followed behind him in his truck and the two Hummels reached Westerville in good time.

They had toured Dalton over the summer, but seeing it now was something else. There seemed to be boys everywhere. They were all lugging boxes and luggage into the dorms. Many were laughing and joking around with each other. There were a few curious glances sent Kurt's way as he headed for the check-in table, but none of those looks seemed malevolent. Kurt already felt more comfortable there than he had his entire life in Lima.

Kurt got his room assignment and his key, along with a packet of information given to all new students. Inside, he found a map of the campus, a schedule, and an appointment paper for a meeting with his guidance counselor, among other things. Jeff and Trent had both told him that he would have Miss Jenkins for his counselor, since she was the only counselor of the five Dalton employed who was trained to deal with the special issues that arose for Hybrids.

"According to the map, I'm in this building over here," Kurt told his dad. 

"Well, then, I guess we chose the right area to park," Burt said. They were both parked close to the main door of Griffin Hall. They each grabbed a load of boxes and headed inside, making their way through the other students and families doing the same.

The resident halls were just as grand as the rest of Dalton. It was one of the reasons why Kurt had liked this school so much better than the others. As a cat hybrid, he was very particular about his surroundings, just as he was very particular about his appearance. Another reason he liked Dalton better was the fact that he would have his own room. He had to pay a little more for the privilege, but Kurt really did not want to share his personal space with a stranger. He needed a safe place to call his own.

That trait wasn't specifically a cat trait. Kurt knew from both Jeff and Trent that most hybrids preferred to have their own space. Whether it was something about their animal instincts or whether it was a conditioned response to years of staring and unwanted touches, most hybrids craved privacy.

Kurt's room was exactly like the room they had seen on the tour over the summer. It had a small en suite bathroom, a closet large enough for two boys to share, but barely large enough for Kurt's clothes. There was a double bed. Kurt knew that the shared rooms had single beds, but was glad that the single rooms got the larger bed; he liked to sprawl when he slept. The room had a desk, a bookshelf, a chest of drawers, a nightstand, and an armchair.

It took them almost two hours to get everything unloaded and unpacked, but soon enough, Kurt felt like the small room was his. His favorite show posters were framed and hanging from the walls. His laptop sat on the desk alongside pictures of Kurt and his dad and one of his parents together. His books and videos were lining the bookshelf. His clothes were all put away--though Kurt knew he would have to iron some things before he could wear them. His moisturizers lined the bathroom counter and his many soaps, gels, and hair care products were on a shelf in the shower.

"What's on the schedule?" Burt asked as he sat in Kurt's armchair and looked around the finished room.

"Well, I have an orientation thing this afternoon," Kurt said. "But that's not until two."

"So you have time to go to lunch with your old man before I head back to Lima?" Burt asked.

Kurt smiled at him. "I would love to have lunch with you."

GLEE

After lunch, Burt dropped Kurt back at the dorm and they said their tearful goodbyes. Kurt sighed as he waved goodbye to his father as the truck drove away. He knew that he would see his father soon, and probably talk to him almost daily, but it wouldn't be the same. It had been the two of them against the world for so long that Kurt wasn't sure how he had ever imagined he could just leave.

"He's going to be fine," Kurt said to himself. "I made enough frozen dinners to last him a couple weeks. He'll be fine."

"Letting go is tough," a boy said from beside him. "But they grow up so fast."

Kurt frowned at the teasing as he turned to see who had interrupted his private moment. "Excuse me?"

"Sorry," the boy said with a sheepish smile. "I couldn't help myself. I didn't mean to make light of your situation. It's just... I thought a laugh might make you feel better."

Now that Kurt got a good look at the boy, his breath was almost taken away. He had the most beautiful eyes Kurt had ever seen. Long lashes framed hazel eyes that looked like they were made from amber in the sunlight. He had dark curly hair that he had attempted to tame through the use of entirely too much hair gel. But despite that flaw, or possibly because of it, he was breathtakingly handsome.

"I..." Kurt shook his head. "I appreciate the attempt, but I doubt much could make me feel better."

"I'm Blaine," the boy said as he held out his hand. 

Kurt took it and the shock of electricity between them almost made him purr. "I'm Kurt. I'm new."

"I know," Blaine said with a grin. "With less than four hundred students in the entire school, and half of them living on campus, we all tend to know each other. Besides, Jeff and Trent told me to keep an eye out for you."

Kurt's brows rose haughtily. "Why would they do that?"

"Because I'm a senior mentor," Blaine said. "That means it's my job to make sure that the new kids learn the ropes. And you just happen to be my assignment. When I told the guys I was mentoring a hybrid and asked for their advice, they told me that they had both been in contact with you over the summer."

"So, you're friends with Trent and Jeff?" Kurt asked.

"I am," Blaine said. "We're all part of the Warblers, the Dalton Glee Club. Do you sing?"

Kurt looked confused. "Um, just for myself. I mean, yes, I sing, but I've never been in any sort of group or anything."

"You should totally audition," Blaine said. "We're having auditions this Friday. I can even help you prepare, if you want."

"Maybe," Kurt said. "I should go get changed."

"Oh right," Blaine said as he looked at his watch. "Orientation starts in 45 minutes. Gotta get in uniform. I'll see you there?"

Kurt nodded and then headed into Griffin Hall.

GLEE

The orientation meeting was actually pretty helpful. Though Kurt was still a little wary of Blaine--after all, Kurt wasn't used to anyone just coming up to him and being nice without having some sort of plan to hurt or humiliate him--he didn't mind having the other boy at his side explaining things. He even accepted Blaine's invitation to have coffee after his meeting with Miss Jenkins the next morning. 

While the senior mentors and new students had all moved into the dorms, the rest of the students wouldn't be arriving until Monday and classes wouldn't start until Tuesday. So Blaine's schedule was completely free to meet Kurt.

Kurt figured it wouldn't hurt anything to get the other boy's opinion on his schedule. And he had sort of promised himself that he would try to make friends. After emailing with Jeff and Trent and the other hybrids, Kurt knew that most boys at Dalton didn't look down on hybrids. Even so, Kurt was wary to open himself up too much. It would be so much worse if the pain and humiliation came unexpectedly from someone he thought he could trust.

The next morning, Kurt met Blaine in the lobby of Griffin Hall and they headed to breakfast together. Much like at orientation and dinner the night before, Kurt noted that most of the seniors were hanging out with their charges. He also noted that most mentors had two new students.

"Why am I your only student?" Kurt asked Blaine over his bowl of oatmeal doctored with brown sugar, berries and chunks of peach and plum.

Blaine smiled. "I guess that the admin figures that hybrids need a bit more space. I know that when Trent started, David was his mentor and David didn't have any other new students. Neither did Wes when he mentored Jeff. It's too bad Wes and David graduated. I think you would have liked them. They were both on the Warbler's council."

Kurt nodded. "Council?"

Blaine grinned. "Yeah, we don't really have a teacher to lead us. I mean, Mr. Johansen acts as our chaperone for trips and stuff, but we pretty much run the club ourselves. We elect the council each year and they get final say on all songs and soloists. But we're pretty democratic about things. Anyone can suggest a song or try for a solo."

"Sounds fair, I guess," Kurt said. "And nobody makes fun of you guys for being in glee club?" At McKinley, the glee club was only one step above being a hybrid and about equal with being gay on the bully's list of favorite people to torture.

"No way," Blaine said with a grin. "We're like rock stars. In fact, the school pretty much shuts down when we decide to give an impromptu concert. You'll see."

Kurt nodded. "I've been thinking about trying out. I mean, since we're required to participate in two extracurricular activities, and I do like to sing. I'm just... not used to having people looking at me for any other reason than to stare my ears or tail."

"Well, as cute as your ears and tail are, there are much more impressive things about you, Kurt Hummel," Blaine said flirtatiously. He looked at his watch. "But I'll have to list them for you another time. We have to leave now if we're going to get you to your appointment on time."

Kurt was half relieved to get away from Blaine's overly cheerful and friendly personality and half disappointed that he wouldn't get to hear what other things Blaine liked about him.

GLEE

Kurt was surprised that Blaine didn't take him to the cafeteria for coffee after his meeting. Instead, they headed toward the front gates. The coffee shop they went to was actually only a few blocks away and was frequently visited by Dalton students during free periods. They weren't the only two in Dalton uniforms that day either.

Blaine found them a table near the back and they sat with their drinks. "So, what classes did you end up with?"

Kurt pulled out his schedule and handed it over to Blaine rather than try to list them. He knew he'd forget half of what was on the schedule.

"Well, it looks like we'll have almost all our classes together," Blaine said. "But there's no way I could get into AP Calculus or AP French. Wait. You're taking six AP classes?"

"French, Calculus BC, English, Italian, Music Theory and Physics," Kurt said with a nod. "When you don't have friends, you have a lot of time to study."

Blaine frowned at that. "I knew things were probably tough at your old school, but... no friends?"

"Let's just say that being a hybrid was considered to be worse than being gay," Kurt said dryly. "And I was both."

"Right," Blaine said sadly. "That sucks. I... I came to Dalton because I got harassed for being gay. I got beat up after a school dance and my parents decided it was time to get me some place safe."

"I got shoved down a staircase," Kurt said quietly. "Ended up in the hospital for a while and then in physical therapy for most of the summer. But my dad got a lawyer and sued the pants off the school. That's how I can afford to go here now."

"Well, at least there's a silver lining," Blaine said. "And I can promise you that you have at least one friend at Dalton already."

Kurt smiled hesitantly but nodded. "Um, so which classes do we have together?"

"AP Italian, AP English, AP Physics, AP Music Theory, Current Events and Phys Ed," Blaine said. "I can't believe that you're taking two languages, and both AP level."

"I like languages," Kurt shrugged. "I took AP Spanish last year and got a 5 on the test."

"Any other AP courses you've passed already?" Blaine asked teasingly.

"Just Biology, Chemistry, Calculus AB, and World History," Kurt said. "They didn't offer as many AP courses at my old school. What about you? What other AP courses have you taken?"

"Just Chemistry, Computer Science and US Government and Politics," Blaine said. "Anyway, it's good that we'll have six classes together. And I'm pretty sure that Jeff is in AP French, so you'll know him for that class. As for Calculus, there's only one guy I know who would willingly take that class besides you. I'll introduce you to him at dinner. His name is Nick. Actually, he's Jeff's boyfriend."

"I don't think Jeff ever mentioned he had a boyfriend," Kurt said. "Then again, we mostly talked about school stuff. Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," Blaine said amenably.

"The rule about extracurricular activities," Kurt said. "It said that at least one had to be a physical activity of some sort. Does that mean I have to join a team?"

Blain shook his head. "Not at all. I do boxing and I know a couple of guys on the fencing team, but Wes used to take Krav Maga lessons at a local place here in town. And I know Jeff takes dance lessons. Those both fulfill the requirement."

"Thank goodness," Kurt sighed. "I'm not fond of team sports. Maybe I'll ask Jeff about where he takes dance. I used to take classes before I was sidelined by a trip down the stairs."

"Is that what you want to do?" Blaine asked. "Perform?"

Kurt shrugged. "While there is a part of me that would like to perform on Broadway and show all those assholes from my old school up by becoming rich and famous, I don't really think that's what I want to do with my life. I've considered taking languages in college and being an interpreter or something, but I think I want to go into either medicine or psychology and specialize in helping hybrids."

"That's pretty cool," Blaine said.

"What about you?" Kurt asked. "Have you considered your college plans?"

Blaine sighed. "My father would like me to go to Dartmouth and be a business major. Personally, I'd rather do something with music. Not even necessarily performing. I could teach or compose. I've read a little bit about music therapy, and that sounds interesting, too. I just don't know how I'm going to convince my father to pay for school if I'm not studying something he deems worthwhile."

"Well, you have a year to convince him," Kurt said. "And if you can't, then you meet with a financial aid advisor at whatever school you choose and take out loans like the majority of college students in this country."

"That’s a little simplistic, don't you think?" Blaine asked with a frown.

"I'm sorry," Kurt said a little contritely. "I don't mean to make light of your issues with your father. My point is that you will be an adult and have the right to make your life what you want it to be, with or without your father's approval. It may be easier to just go along with what he wants, and it would certainly be more financially stable, but the question you must ask yourself is if financial stability will make you happy? It's a lot to consider, and I'm sorry if it sounded like I was minimizing that."

Blaine shook his head. "No, I'm sorry. I can get a little touchy about family stuff. Since I came out, my father has been... let's just say that he's less than accepting and leave it there."

"I suppose in that respect, I've been exceedingly lucky," Kurt said quietly. "My father doesn't always understand, but he tries, at least. And he's never once tried to make me be anything other than what I am. When I came out to him my sophomore year, he told me he's always known. Apparently since I asked for a pair of sensible heels for my third birthday."

Blaine chuckled at that. "I can see how that might be a giveaway."

GLEE

When classes started up, Kurt quickly found himself immersed in the much heavier workload at Dalton. That didn’t mean that he didn’t take time to spend with Blaine, or with Trent and Jeff. He even found himself studying with Nick on a regular basis. A part of Kurt was grateful to finally have friends, but another part of him was still wary of those friendships being taken away from him. And so he continued to hold himself back from his new friends.

Even so, the first weeks at Dalton were better than anything Kurt had experienced in his life. He felt safe at school for the first time in his life. In fact, he had never felt safe anywhere but the home he shared with his father, so this was something very new to the half-cat. That was something he talked about with Miss Jenkins, his guidance counselor when they met every other week. He also talked about how being a hybrid changed how Kurt viewed the world and how those differences could be good things, not the negative things he had always believed.

For instance, his need to have a tidy home and be well groomed was a good thing, even if it set him apart from most teenaged boys, even other hybrids. A more complex example was Kurt’s physiology. It took a lot of talking for Miss Jenkins to convince Kurt that his cat instincts and physiology was a good thing.

In the meantime, Kurt worked hard on his audition piece for the Warblers and was welcomed into the group. He also started back with his dance lessons, this time going with Jeff to the studio in Westerville. As he felt more comfortable with his new friends and with the other students at Dalton, Kurt began participating in other activities as well. He helped organize a food drive for the local food bank and he began volunteering at a shelter for displaced hybrids in Columbus once a week.

With so much going on, it would have been easy to fall behind in school, but Kurt worked hard to maintain his grades. He had been serious about wanting to become a doctor for hybrids. And to get into the right pre-med program, so that he could later get into the right med school, meant that he had to maintain almost perfect grades.

Kurt and Blaine spent a lot of time in the first weeks of school preparing their college applications and writing their essays. Miss Jenkins was very helpful to Kurt in finding schools that had medical programs that included hybrids. It was such a highly specialized field that most med schools didn’t cover the specialty. Kurt knew that there weren’t many practicing physicians who specialized in hybrids from experience. The closest hybrid doctor to Lima was in Columbus, and there were only ten in the entire state.

Kurt knew which school he wanted to go to and had applied for early admissions to Columbia. They had the most advanced hybrid program for both their pre-med and medical schools in the country. Still, it was sensible to have back up plans, so he sent applications to several other schools as well: Harvard, Cornell, Johns Hopkins, Northwestern and Ohio State. All of the schools had hybrid programs, but some were better than others. For instance, the undergraduate hybrid program at Ohio State was not a part of their pre-med classes. Their hybrid anatomy and biology courses actually fell under their veterinary medicine department. Kurt kind of resented that. He wasn’t an animal, even if he had some cat traits.

Blaine was still considering his options and had applied to NYADA, Julliard and Johns Hopkins for performing arts. But he had also applied to Columbia, Harvard, Dartmouth and Princeton for his father. Kurt did his best to help his friend figure everything out, but there was only so much he could do.

The week before Christmas break, Kurt got a letter from Columbia.

“Open it!” Blaine encouraged Kurt as they walked back to Kurt’s dorm room. 

“Not until we get to my room,” Kurt said tensely.

Surprisingly, Kurt felt very comfortable having Blaine in his room. He didn’t really let anyone else into his private space, but he had never once blocked Blaine from coming inside his sanctuary. And that day was no different. Kurt opened the door to his room and ushered Blaine inside before closing the door behind them.

Blaine sat on the edge of Kurt’s bed and Kurt sat down beside him after setting his messenger bag on his desk. His hands were shaking when he finally held the envelope.

“A small envelope isn’t usually a good sign,” Kurt said.

“You can’t know for sure until you actually open it,” Blaine said logically.

Kurt nodded and stared down at the envelope for another minute before carefully unsealing the flap and pulling the letter from inside.

“Read it out loud,” Blaine insisted.

“Dear Mister Hummel,” Kurt said with a slow and shaking voice. “We are pleased…” Kurt let out a laugh of relief and continued to read, much faster now. “We are pleased to welcome you to Columbia’s class of 2016!”

“You did it!” Blaine shouted excitedly and hugged Kurt close. 

Kurt accepted the physical contact and even welcomed it. He was so happy he actually kissed Blaine. For the first few moments, it was the best feeling in the world and then he realized exactly what he was doing and pulled away.

“I’m so sorry,” Kurt blurted out.

Blaine looked deeply into Kurt’s eyes. “I’m not. Kurt, you’re my best friend. And I’ve… I’ve been attracted to you from the moment I saw you waving goodbye to your father. I’m not upset that you kissed me. But I’m not going to push for more, until you’re ready for more.”

“Really? You think… I’m attractive?” Kurt asked timidly.

“Very,” Blaine said with a nod. “And the more I get to know you the more attractive you become. But, like I said, I’m willing to wait until you’re ready for more.”

“I think… I think I’d like to be more than just best friends,” Kurt said shyly. “I mean, as long as we take things slow. I’ve never… had a boyfriend before.”

“I’m honored to be the first,” Blaine said with a sappy grin. “And with any luck, I’ll also be the last.”

BKBKBKBKBK

Christmas was interesting that year. Burt had begun dating a woman that he had met when she brought her car to the garage for servicing. Carole Hudson was a lovely woman, and Kurt didn’t begrudge his father finally getting on with his life. What he did resent was Carole’s son Finn. Finn Hudson was a jock in Kurt’s year. When Kurt had been at McKinley, he hadn’t actively tormented him, but he had hung out with the jocks that did and never did anything to stop them. Kurt felt like he was a bully by association.

And Finn was no happier about having Kurt around. He gave Kurt disgusted looks whenever Burt and Carole weren’t looking. It was like Kurt’s appearance was an affront to the other teen. 

Kurt didn’t want to say anything to his father or Carole. He knew that it would cause tension between them and Kurt really did want his father to find happiness. He had spent so much time worrying that Burt was lonely after he left for Dalton that Kurt was glad to know that he wasn’t alone. So Kurt tried his best to ignore Finn’s bigotry and spent as much time with Blaine over the break as was possible.

Burt Hummel wasn’t quite as enthusiastic to find out that his son finally had a boyfriend. He insisted that Blaine come over for dinner so that he could grill him and determine if the Dalton boy was good enough for his son. Blaine had, of course, impressed Carole with his dapper charm, but Burt was harder to win over. It wasn’t until Burt said something about Ohio State’s chances against LSU in the Rose Bowl, that Blaine was able to impress the senior Hummel. Blaine rattled off a list of statistics for both teams and concluded that if Ohio State’s defense performed as well as they had been all year, it should be a close game.

“It figures that it was sports that finally got my dad to like you,” Kurt huffed with annoyance as he walked Blaine out to his car after dinner.

“Hey, whatever works,” Blaine said with a smile. “If that hadn’t worked, I was about to tell him the story of how I spent a summer fixing up a car with my dad.”

“You?” Kurt asked with a laugh. “You don’t know a spark plug from a drain plug.”

Blaine shrugged gloomily. “It was right after I came out. I think my dad was trying to butch me up or something. He doesn’t know much more than I do about cars. It was really a monumental waste of time. It didn’t change the fact that I’m gay and it didn’t make him accept or understand me.”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt said. 

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Blaine said, cheering up again. “You are the most wonderful thing to ever happen to me, Kurt Hummel.”

And then Kurt pulled his boyfriend into a sweet kiss goodbye.

BKBKBKBKBK

Weeks passed and things between Kurt and Blaine were going amazingly. Though Kurt was always shy of having people touch him, he had never felt that way about Blaine. And now, he welcomed every kiss, caress and embrace that Blaine offered. He even initiated a few of his own.

Even so, Kurt was not yet ready for their relationship to advance physically. One of the best things about having Blaine for a boyfriend was the fact that he not only accepted Kurt’s slow pace, he also insisted that they talk about everything. Every new step they took, they discussed first and made sure that both of them were ready for the increase in intimacy. So the first time that they made out without shirts was preceded by a conversation. The first time they rubbed off against each other wasn’t in the heat of the moment, but after a very serious discussion. 

It was because Blaine had made talking so expected, if not always comfortable, that when Kurt started noticing a few things about himself, things that he knew right away what they meant, he felt okay about talking to Blaine about them.

“So, this is a really uncomfortable conversation for me to have,” Kurt told his boyfriend one Saturday in March as they once again sat on Kurt’s bed. “But it’s something you need to know and understand before it happens.”

“You know you can tell me anything, Kurt,” Blaine said supportively as he reached out to hold Kurt’s hand in both of his.

Kurt nodded. “I know. It’s still hard. I… I’m…”

“Does this have something to do with being a hybrid?” Blaine asked.

Kurt nodded. “Yes. How much do you know about how the two parts of a hybrid function?”

“Not much,” Blaine admitted with a frown. “I mean, I’ve heard Jeff complain about his dog side doing things he thought was embarrassing, like sniffing people or not being able to help chasing a ball that’s thrown. I always thought that was kind of strange, that he talked about that part of himself almost like a separate being.”

Kurt nodded his understanding. “In a way, we are separate. But we’re also the same. For most hybrids, that simply means that they sometimes do things based on their animal instincts. For me it’s a little more complicated.”

“How so?” Blaine asked.

“I’m a boy,” Kurt said.

Blaine nodded slowly. “Definitely.”

“But my cat side isn’t,” Kurt told him quietly.

Blaine blinked in confusion for a minute before shaking his head. “Your cat side is female? How does that… work? I’ve never heard of something like that before.”

“It’s not very common but it does happen,” Kurt said. “There are other hybrids whose animal gender doesn’t match their human gender. For the most part it doesn’t change or affect most things. Outwardly, you would never know. Not even if we had sex.”

“So there’s no…”

“Vagina?” Kurt supplied. “Not in the traditional sense.”

“I don’t understand,” Blaine said. He sounded slightly curious and not at all disgusted, for which Kurt was grateful.

“I don’t have a vagina, but I do have a birth canal,” Kurt said. “It’s… located… in my anus.”

“But how…?”

“You know how your throat performs two functions?” Kurt asked. “You use it to swallow and to breathe. And the body automatically knows when you need it for which.”

“Unless you do something like laugh when you’re eating and then you choke,” Blaine said with a nod.

“Yes,” Kurt said with a roll of his eyes. “My… birth canal is the same. If I’m… sexually aroused, then it swells and closes off access to the colon. So any... penetration… leads to the birth canal.”

“Does this mean you can have babies?” Blaine asked.

Kurt nodded. “It also means that I have reproductive cycles.”

“Like a period?” Blaine wondered.

“Not exactly,” Kurt said with a shake of his head. “It’s my cat side that’s female, remember? I go into heat.”

Blaine swallowed. “Heat? What exactly does that… entail?”

“Well, thankfully, it only happens twice a year,” Kurt said. “And it only lasts two or three days. But the symptoms start showing up about a week beforehand.”   
“What are the symptoms?” Blaine asked.

Kurt blushed. “I get more affectionate. And not just with people I’m normally affectionate with. And my appetite decreases. Then I start to be able to smell… well, I know when a guy is sexually attracted to me and I give off pheromones to encourage them to want to mate. That starts about a week before the heat. Then the day before, I lose my appetite altogether and suddenly don’t want anyone to touch me.”

“And when heat actually hits?” Blaine asked with a blush. “I’ve heard things about a cat in heat, but… it’s not really like that, is it?”

“Honestly?” Kurt said and Blaine nodded. “It is a little bit like that. I mean, I’m still partly human and I do have some control over my urges. But it’s not easy. I’ve only gone through heat three times, and every time, it was like… I just constantly wanted to get off. I… had to use toys. And that helped a bit with the need. But it… it gets pretty ugly.”

Blaine was blushing as much as Kurt by then, but he bravely offered, “I could… help?”

Kurt paused at that. He hadn’t even considered that Blaine might want to help him through his heat, but it was tempting. “I don’t know. I mean, we haven’t even been naked together yet.”

“I’m ready if you are,” Blaine said and suddenly he looks so eager that Kurt can’t help but laugh a little. 

“We have a little time,” Kurt said. “Why don’t we explore a little and then make that decision when the time is closer?”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Blaine said with a grin.

BKBKBKBKBK

The first time they actually got naked together, Kurt was very self-conscious about the differences in their anatomy. Blaine had some hair on his chest and legs, but Kurt had fur on his thighs, lower back and hips. He had a tail, for goodness sakes. But Blaine drank in the sight of him like he was dehydrated and Kurt was a cool glass of water. Blaine’s first touches were tentative as he explored Kurt’s body and Kurt was just as tentative as he returned those touches.


	13. Author

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt is raising his younger brother after their father's death and running the garage, but he dreams of being a writer. Then one day Blaine arrives with the offer to publish his book.

"Kurt!"

Kurt Hummel sighed and set aside his laptop to go and see what had his younger brother shouting down the house. He followed the repeated shouts of his name until he found Eric in the kitchen, searching frantically through the cupboards.

"What's up?" Kurt asked his brother.

"I got the best news," Eric said with a wide smile as he turned around. "Do we have anything to eat? I'm starving."

"There's fruit in the bowl that will tide you over," Kurt said. "No junk food. Dinner is in the oven and I don't want you to load up on crap and not eat supper. So what's your news?"

Eric took one of the apples from the fruit bowl and took a big bite. Still chewing, he said, "I told you I was trying out for the football team, right? So, I found out today that I made the team. I'm going to be the backup quarterback. And Jack Manning is a senior, so that means Coach Beist is going to get me ready to start next year. I'll get to see game time."

"I'm so proud of you," Kurt told his brother happily as he gave him a hug. "But you really need to stop talking with your mouth full."

Eric shoved Kurt away with a laugh. "I'm a teenaged boy. We all talk and eat at the same time. Otherwise we'd never talk at all."

Kurt laughed and looked at his brother with new eyes. He was so much like their father. He had Burt Hummel's eyes and smile. He had Burt Hummel's broad shoulders and athletic ability. Most importantly, he had Burt Hummel's good humor and easy way with people. Kurt took after their mother in so many ways; it was nice to see his father's legacy in Eric.

"Go set the table," Kurt said. "And then you can tell me all about football. Like when practices are. And I want a schedule of your games."

Eric was already reaching up into the cupboard for the plates, but he stopped to look at Kurt. "You want to come to my games? You hate football!"

"But I love you," Kurt said with a shrug as he took the casserole out of the oven. "Do you remember when I played football?"

Eric laughed as he went to set the table. "I remember. You had the whole team dancing on the field. Dad thought it was the best thing ever."

Kurt shook his head with a smile. "He was the best dad ever."

"He was," Eric agreed. 

GLEE

That night, after Eric had gone to bed and Kurt was going through his nightly moisturizing routine, he considered his life. It was nothing like he thought it would be. When he had been Eric's age, he had so many dreams: Broadway, fashion, New York. And for a few brief months, he'd had a taste of those dreams.

After graduating from high school, he had headed for New York. He'd spent three years going to NYADA. He had a taste of the life he could have lived. And it had been good. But it hadn't been everything he had dreamed it would be. He had loved performing in high school, but it hadn't been fun in college. It had been too competitive to be fun. And he had hated all of the personal criticism and shallow valuations. That was why Kurt switched from a performing track to a creative writing major. 

He had gotten a part time internship with Vogue. com. And he had liked working in the fashion industry, but he had found that he loved writing more. The few times he had been allowed to write an article had been the best times of his three year stay in New York. He still loved fashion, but he found that his love for writing was bigger.

As for living in New York, it wasn't at all like he dreamed. It was loud and cramped and expensive. Yes, there was a certain freedom to express his sexuality, but there was also a harshness and bitterness that was the price of that freedom. 

When Kurt was home for summer break between his junior and senior year of college, his father was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. They all knew it was a death sentence. It was only a matter of how soon it would happen. For Kurt, it had been easy to decide not to go back to New York. His father and brother needed him. It was a little harder to convince Burt Hummel. But he had, in the end. 

Burt lived for another year after the diagnosis, long enough for Kurt to finish up his degree at OSU Lima while helping out at the garage. Long enough for Eric, then just 11years old, to come to grips with what was happening. Long enough for Burt to get his affairs in order and turn everything over to his two sons. 

The first year after Burt's death had been hard, much harder than losing their mother had been. Eric had only been a few days old when Elizabeth Hummel had died from complications related to childbirth. Kurt had been eleven and had known and loved his mother dearly. It had been hard to lose her, but at least he had Burt to lean on. And they had both done their best because Eric, so tiny and helpless, needed them. Kurt's teen years were filled with memories of helping to raise his baby brother. 

Sometimes, Kurt thought that the hardest thing about being in New York for three years was the fact that he had to leave his brother behind. Even knowing that their father was there to take care of him wasn't enough. Kurt had been there for Eric from the very beginning. While Burt worked, Kurt took care of Eric. He fed and bathed him. He read him bedtime stories. He was more than just his big brother. And moving home to be with Eric hadn't been a burden. It had been a pleasure.

Kurt smiled. His life might not be what he thought it would be when he was a teen, but in many ways it was better. In some ways, it was sadder. But Kurt didn't regret for a single day the choices he had made.

GLEE

One of the first things Kurt did when he took over the garage, even before Burt passed away, was to put everything on computer. Now, they could track every part that was used, which made ordering and inventory much simpler. Their books were a lot easier to reconcile and invoices were a snap. And Kurt could automatically send out email reminders to their customers when it was time for an oil change, something many of the more forgetful sort were grateful for. It had taken some time to get the guys who worked for him used to logging everything in the computer, but after almost four years, they were just as appreciative of the computer as Kurt was. They could now tell with the click of a button if they had the needed parts in stock or if they had to order them.

That being said, Kurt still had to spend at least one day a week making sure that the administrative side of the business was done right. He had hired an assistant manager to help keep the garage running smoothly, and to let him get home at a decent hour each day, but there were still some things that Kurt had to do himself. 

It was on one of those days where Kurt was up to his ears in payroll and inventory and invoices, that he was interrupted by his assistant manager, Puck. Puck had graduated the same year as Kurt, but had never tried to leave Lima. Instead, when Burt looked for someone to fill in the hours at the shop that Kurt's leaving for college left, he hired Puck. And Puck was good. Very good. Kurt sometimes thought that eventually he might let Puck take over the day to daily operations of the garage without him. But that day hadn't come yet. Kurt still needed the income that working provided. He was raising a teenaged boy with college costs looming in the not so distant future and they needed every penny Kurt could bring in.

"Kurt, there's some dude out here that insists on talking to you," Puck said apologetically. He knew for a fact that Kurt was never in the best of moods on Mondays, the days when he went through the books.

Kurt sighed and stood up from the desk in the office. "What about?"

"No clue," Puck said with a shrug. "But he's driving a sweet '69 Mustang."

Kurt smiled at that. Of course Puck paid more attention to the man's car than he did to what the man actually wanted. "Okay."

Kurt followed Puck out through the garage and through the open bay doors to where the man was standing beside his car. Puck was right: the Mustang was a beauty. But it wasn't the car the caught Kurt's attention. The man standing beside the car was even more beautiful. He had dark curly hair that the guy had obviously tried to tame into submission with too much hair gel. And he wasn't as tall as Kurt, but he was lean and compact and obviously took great care with his body. He was dressed in a suit that Kurt noted was from the fall line of one of his favorite designers. And he had the most gorgeous hazel eyes, framed by thick lashes and eyebrows, that Kurt had ever seen.

"I'm Kurt Hummel, how can i help you?" Kurt said, drawing the man's attention to him.

The man looked him over and Kurt couldn't help but feel completely underdressed. He was wearing simple skinny jeans and a white button down shirt. At least he wasn't in coveralls. But there was something in the way that this man looked at him that Kurt recognized. It was not something Kurt often saw in Lima, but he had spent enough time in the big city to recognize when a man was checking him out. It was both flattering and a bit disconcerting for its unexpectedness.

"Yes, um, hi," the guy said as he held out a hand to shake. "I'm Blaine Anderson. I'm with Anderson Publishing. Is there somewhere private we could talk?"

Kurt blinked. Anderson Publishing? He had sent manuscripts to a number of publishing houses in the hopes of getting his first book published, but usually he just got simple rejection letters in the mail. He had never had anyone show up in person before. He tried not to get his hopes up, but it was difficult. He nodded and led the way back to his office.

"Can I offer you some coffee or water?" Kurt asked as they passed the break room. 

"I'm fine, thanks," Blaine said. 

They reached the office and Kurt gestured for Blaine to take a seat before he took his own seat behind the desk. "So, Mr. Anderson, what can I do for you? Does this have anything to do with the manuscript I sent a few months back? Because I already got the lovely form letter rejecting it."

"I know," Blaine said. "And please call me Blaine. This has everything to do with your manuscript. Though I think I need to explain a few things first."

"Go right ahead," Kurt invited with a smile. "I'm all ears."

"Well, historically, Anderson Publishing has focused its efforts on mysteries and romance novels. Other than a few breakthrough authors, we have concentrated on those areas because the readers in those genres tend to be loyal and avid. We concentrate on quantity of sales overall, rather than trying to make our profits through best sellers."

Kurt nodded. "Sell a lot of small titles rather than a lot of a single title."

"Exactly," Blaine said with a smile. "There were two reasons why your manuscript didn't fit in with our goals at the time. First because of its focus on a same-sex relationship."

Kurt sighed. "I knew it was a long shot when I sent it."

"Your book may be a mystery, but it didn't fit in with the expectations of our regular readers," Blaine explained. "However, we have been in the process of expanding our offerings to the LGBT community. The second reason it was rejected was the fact that it was, to put it bluntly, too far from the stereotypes that the editors in this newly established department recognized."

"So it's too gay to be a mystery and not gay enough to be a gay novel?" Kurt asked with some disdain.

Blaine laughed self-consciously. "That about sums it up."

"If that's true, then why are you here?" Kurt asked.

"Because I was recently put in charge of our LGBT division," Blaine said. "And unlike my predecessor, I understand that gay men are not stereotypes. I can also recognize good literature when I read it. I believe that the world is changing, Kurt. I believe that there is a market for your book beyond the LGBT community. Did you know that more than 75% of the readers and writers of online gay fiction and fan fiction are females of all ages and walks of life?" 

Kurt was surprised that Blaine actually knew anything about online fiction, but he nodded. "I did know that."

"Well, I believe that your novel has the potential to not only launch our new LGBT division, but also cross barriers into other markets," Blaine said. "Possibly even go to best seller status. With the right marketing push, your novel could be one of the best our publishing house ever produced."

Kurt was shocked. "You... really think my book could..."

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't," Blaine said. "Listen, I know that this is a lot to take in all at once. So, perhaps we could meet again, maybe for dinner, to talk everything over?"

Kurt blinked at him. Was he asking him to a dinner meeting? Or was this a date? "I... My brother... I have to be home with my brother in the evenings. But... but you could come to the house for dinner and we could discuss everything there."

"That sounds perfect," Blaine said with a grin. "Tonight?"

Kurt nodded and gave Blaine his address and told him what time to be there. Then Blaine walked out, leaving a very stunned Kurt in his wake. Moments later Puck entered the office and noted Kurt's shellshocked face.

"You okay?" Puck asked. "I can go beat the shit out of that guy if he said something to upset you. I saw the way he was eyeing you."

Kurt finally broke out of his trancelike state and chuckled. "Please don't. He... he wants to publish my book."

"That's great!" Puck said enthusiastically. "Isn't it?"

"It is," Kurt agreed. "He's coming to dinner to talk more about it."

Puck gave Kurt a sly look. "Oh... Maybe you'll get more than a book out of this after all."

Kurt huffed, but internally, he hoped that Puck was right.

GLEE

Kurt arrived at the high school just in time to see Eric exit the locker room with a group of other players. They were all laughing and shoving each other in the way that most teenaged boys do. Kurt had never been one of those boys. He'd been the outsider because of who he was and how he looked and acted. The shunning and bullying had been about more than his sexuality, he realized now, years later. It didn't make it better. High school had still been a nightmare for him.

But Eric didn't have the same problems that Kurt did. He was athletic and outgoing. The boys wanted to be his friend and the girls wanted to date him. Kurt watched him call out his farewell to his friends and head towards the SUV. He prayed to a god he didn't believe in that Eric wouldn't become one of those guys who Kurt had feared when he was that age.

"So, how was practice?" Kurt asked when Eric closed the passenger door.

"It was great!" Eric said. "Coach wants me to start learning the plays and has me running drills with the second string. She said that she thinks I'll get some playing time if I keep up with the hard work."

"That's great," Kurt said warmly. "We're having a guest for dinner tonight, so I want you to get washed up as soon as we get home, and then help me get dinner on."

"Who's coming?" Eric asked. Kurt rarely had anyone over except over the holidays, when his friends from high school were in town. Then Rachel and Mercedes were frequent visitors, but normally, during the rest of the year, it was just the two of them.

"A man came to the shop today," Kurt explained. "He wants to talk about publishing my book."

"Kurt, that's great news!" Eric said excitedly. "Someone finally sees how great your writing is."

"Well, we're just talking about it right now," Kurt said cautiously. "Nothing is written in stone. But it is encouraging. And if the book sells, then maybe I can cut back at the garage a little bit without worrying that we won't be able to afford to send you to college."

"I don't know why you're worried about that," Eric said with confidence that can only come from youth. "I'm going to get a full ride to OSU."

"I hope you do," Kurt told him. "But excuse me if I plan for the possibility, slight though it may be, that we actually have to pay for your education."

"Whatever," Eric said dismissively.

"Just be on your best behavior tonight," Kurt requested. 

"I'm always on my best behavior," Eric countered cheekily.

Kurt just rolled his eyes as he pulled the SUV into their driveway.

For the next hour, he and Eric worked together to get dinner ready. Kurt even insisted that they use their mother's good China for the occasion. Kurt went all out on the dinner, making his special shrimp carbonara. It wasn't until he was putting the finishing touches on dinner and looking for wine that he considered that Blaine might be allergic to shrimp. Or maybe he just didn't like it. And the only wine he had in the house was a cheap chardonnay.


	14. Agoraphobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt suffers from agoraphobia after tragically losing his entire family. Blaine doesn't appear in this story, but the set up is there to introduce him.

The Manhattan skyline was alight, as it was every night, as Kurt stared out through the windows of his apartment. There were people on the streets, ten stories below him, all intent on ringing in the New Year, but Kurt was not among them. Some part of him longed to be out there with them, but the majority of him was overwhelmed by even the thought of such a thing. Before he could truly get worked up into a panic, Kurt turned away from the window and went back to his sofa. 

The television was showing the madness that was Times Square and Kurt again thought of all those people out there, just a few blocks away, crowding together into a mass of bodies. His hand shook as he changed the channel. It didn’t take long to determine that there wasn’t much else on, so he went to the On Demand page and called up one of his favorite movies instead. When all else failed, singing along with Julie Andrews as she sang Le Jazz Hot could always help him feel better.

Holidays were hard. It was partly because holidays meant interruptions in Kurt’s routine, and Kurt never functioned well without his routines. But it was also because holidays were the times when families came together and friends celebrated. All that togetherness just reminded Kurt how all alone he truly was. He had no friends and no family to share the time with and so he simply retreated further into himself with every holiday that passed.

How long had it been since Kurt had a real conversation with anyone but his therapist? He couldn’t remember. It had to have been at least three years. Probably longer. Definitely longer. It had been before the funeral. Kurt could recall that day quite vividly, burying his whole family. His father Burt, his stepmother Carole, and his stepbrother Finn were all taken from him in one fell swoop. Everyone said it was a tragedy. Kurt knew it was more than a tragedy: it was the world showing him that he just didn’t deserve to be loved.

It was at the funeral that the first panic attack had occurred. There were too many people who wanted to talk to him and offer their support and he had just broken down. Thankfully, one of Rachel’s fathers was a doctor and had helped Kurt through the first attack. He had also prescribed valium. Without those pills, he wasn’t sure he would have ever been able to get through the days that followed. 

It had been like a hazy dream as he arranged to sell the house and the garage. His father’s lawyer had brought him all kinds of paperwork and he had signed where he was supposed to sign and had done everything that needed to be done. Then he had boarded a plane back to New York, with a double dose of valium in his system, and hadn’t gone back to Ohio since.

The valium that LeRoy Berry had prescribed didn’t last forever. And when it ran out, Kurt had his second panic attack in the middle of the sidewalk on 42nd Street. It had been embarrassing and scary and nothing he ever wanted to live through again. Just the thought of going through that again was enough to set off another panic attack, so Kurt tried very hard not to remember that day. He tried hard to forget the people who had stared at him like he was just another New York crazy. He tried hard to forget the ambulance ride and the hospital stay that followed.

Kurt’s first response when he met with the hospital psychiatrist was to ask for another prescription for valium. On the drug, he felt disconnected and the pain, anger and fear weren’t so overwhelming. The doctor had listened to Kurt’s story and had eventually given Kurt the prescription, but had cautioned him that it wasn’t an answer. He needed to seek help.

Kurt had taken the prescription and had ignored the doctor’s advice. But it didn’t take long to realize that the valium wasn’t the answer to his problems. For one, it made him tired and lethargic and he could barely function while taking the medicine. For another, it didn’t stop the panic attacks. As days and weeks passed, Kurt found that the attacks came more and more frequently and that there was nothing he could do to control them. He became so overwhelmed by them that he feared leaving his front door. He just couldn’t face the possibility of losing control in public again. 

He remembered the last time he had tried to leave his home. It had been a couple weeks after the attack on 42nd Street. The valium hadn’t worked and he had been having attacks pretty regularly. Every time the phone rang, his heart would beat a mile a minute and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. His brain just kept replaying that phone call he had gotten from the Ohio State Troopers to tell him his family was dead. Each time it happened, it got a little worse and it took longer to recover. He would sit for hours, just crying and trying to breathe. 

That day, he had finally decided to go back to the doctor at the hospital to seek help. But he had walked out of his building and been shoved by a man in a hurry and then he could feel the panic rising up inside of him. He rushed back into the safety of his building’s lobby and then up to his apartment.

The days that followed were the darkest Kurt had ever experienced. He was grieving for his family and felt trapped inside his own home. He was depressed and the anxiety was almost constant. He wasn’t eating much and when he did, he often vomited it back up. He unplugged his home phone and shut off his cell phone so that he wouldn’t hear them ring. He was completely shut off from the outside world and had no idea what to do or how to make things better.

Eventually, he had somehow pulled himself together enough to seek out help. He went on the internet and found websites about what was wrong with him: agoraphobia. He also found lists of doctors in New York who specialized in treating the disorder. That was when he figured out that it wasn’t just receiving phone calls that sent him into a panic attack. Talking on the phone at all was impossible. He dialed the number for one of the doctors on the list and couldn’t even get a word out when the receptionist answered. 

Amazingly enough, the woman seemed to understand the situation and through his choked attempts to speak, she conveyed the doctor’s email address and suggested that if he was more comfortable, he might consider using that instead of the phone.

Kurt hung up the phone without saying a word and had a brief breakdown, but he did eventually go back to his computer and wrote the first email to Dr. Wesley Montgomery. What followed was a series of emails as Dr. Montgomery, Wes, began to assess Kurt’s situation and began trying to determine the severity of Kurt’s panic disorder. It took a few days, but eventually, they arranged a time for Wes to come to Kurt’s apartment for their first session.

Since moving out of the loft he had shared with his friend Rachel all through college, Kurt hadn’t had many visitors to his apartment. In fact, Rachel was probably the only visitor. So welcoming someone new into his private space, especially when he was already such a wreck, was a trying experience. Kurt had spent hours the day before Wes’ visit scrubbing every surface and then baking a variety of pastries to serve with coffee. It helped him keep his mind off the impending visit. 

Kurt had tried to be a polite host when Wes arrived, but even as he was offering coffee and crumb cake, he was in the throes of another panic attack.

Wes had talked him through the attack and for the first time, Kurt felt some sense that perhaps there was hope that he wouldn’t always be so dysfunctional.

Three years later, as Kurt sat on his sofa watching Julie Andrews, he sighed. Wes had been a blessing and had helped Kurt learn to manage his panic attacks to a degree. But Kurt’s default response to almost everything was to avoid the things that could trigger the attacks. Wes wanted Kurt to try desensitization therapy and Kurt outright refused. He was happy enough talking to Wes about his fears and his grief. He was willing to practice the coping techniques that Wes proscribed. He was even willing to do the homework that Wes assigned him. What he wasn’t willing to do was leave his apartment building or invite anyone else inside his sanctuary. 

Outside Kurt’s window, he could hear the cheers from the crowds in Times Square. Midnight. It was a time to make resolutions, but Kurt couldn’t think of any. His life was far from perfect, but he wasn’t willing to change it.

BKBKBKBKBK

Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings, Kurt always went to the building’s gym. It had taken months of sessions with Wes to get to the point where he was able to do so without panicking. Kurt, however, was motivated by the fact that no matter how crappy his life was, there was no excuse to look less than his best. Wes encouraged it because he said that physical activity was a natural and healthy way to stave off depression and to release stress and anxiety. So, three days a week, he started his day with a run on the treadmill and a round on the weight machines. Tuesdays and Thursdays, he switched to swimming. He did 100 laps in the pool before showering off the chlorine and spending twenty minutes in the sauna. To avoid sharing the space with a lot of people, Kurt always timed his trips to the gym or the pool for after most people had already left for work. Most days, he was the only one there.

After working out, Kurt would fix a late breakfast and then work for a few hours. It was almost a cliché that he was a reclusive writer, but that’s what he was. When the accident happened, it was only a few weeks after his first book had been published. His father never got to see it hit the New York Times best seller list, or stay there for almost a year. But Burt Hummel had been proud of Kurt’s accomplishment nonetheless. It took a little time to get back to writing after everything, but Kurt had published his second book a year and a half later. It too had made it to the top of the best sellers list, as had his third book. His fourth book was in final revisions and was set to be released in February. He wasn’t rich, but Kurt was grateful that he was wealthy enough to pay for his needs. 

It was amazing how much you could do without ever leaving home. Kurt’s interactions with his publisher, editor and agent all were handled by email. He still hated talking on the phone, even if it didn’t send him into the same panic it once had, and so he rarely used the phone. But besides work, Kurt found that he could also use the internet to order groceries, order take out, order clothes and other things for his apartment. He had completely redecorated his living room a few months ago, new furniture and artwork and everything, without ever stepping foot outside his home.

Once Kurt had worked for three hours, he would go to the kitchen to make a light lunch and make his daily phone call to Wes’ office. Since Kurt had no friends or family left, Wes insisted that Kurt check in once a day. He didn’t even talk to Wes himself most of the time. Most days, he called and Linda, the receptionist who had been so kind that first day, answered. She would note that Kurt had called and that would be the end. Wes said it was to make sure that Kurt was still alive and well, but Kurt knew that it was also Wes’ attempt at desensitization. And it worked to a degree. Kurt wasn’t as afraid to make phone calls as he had been in the beginning. But he still hated to hear the phone ring. He only ever turned his phone on when he was making an outgoing call which was rare.

After lunch and check-in, Kurt would go to the lobby to retrieve his mail, and then he would go back to work most days. Only on Tuesdays and Fridays did that differ. On Tuesdays, Kurt skipped the phone call because Wes would come over for their weekly session. And on Fridays, Kurt received his weekly delivery of groceries. Kurt’s evenings were just as regimented. He watched the same shows each week and ate his dinner at the same time every night.

Saturdays, Kurt set aside work in favor of housekeeping. That was the day that he scrubbed every surface of the apartment from top to bottom. Sundays, he slept late, read the New York Times in bed and didn’t bother to get dressed in anything but comfortable lounge pants and a t-shirt. It was his lazy day.

Routine was very important to Kurt. Wes said it gave him a sense of control over his life that he desperately needed. Kurt supposed it was true enough. So much in his life had been out of his control. The loss of his mother, the bullying in high school, and then the loss of his entire family: he hadn’t been able to control any of it. But Kurt could control when he got up and what he wore and what he did with his time. Other than Sundays, Kurt was always perfectly coifed and dressed to impress, even if there was no one to impress but the doorman when he picked up his mail.

Once a month, his hairdresser would come on a Thursday evening to cut Kurt’s hair and give him a facial. She had been his hair dresser through his years of college and they had become friendly. So when Kurt had missed an appointment after he locked himself away, Carla had been sympathetic and offered to come to him instead. He paid her a little bit extra, but she didn’t have to share her earnings with the salon, so she was pleased with the arrangement.

One Tuesday afternoon at the end of January, as Kurt was waiting for Wes to arrive for their weekly appointment, he began to count the number of people who entered his sanctuary since shutting himself away. Not counting the food delivery guys who only came to the door, only five people entered his apartment. Wes, Carla, the grocery guy Jimmy, the doorman James, and Rachel. 

Rachel. Kurt missed his friend. It had been hard losing her friendship. For the first year after the funeral, she had tried. She had tried to understand what he was going through, but she was grieving herself. She had lost her soul mate. She was lost and hurting and really needed her best friend, but Kurt couldn’t help her. Back then, he could barely survive from one day to the next. He wasn’t really surprised when she stopped coming to see him. Her visits had been getting shorter in duration and longer between for a while before she stopped coming altogether. 

Just then, there was a quiet knock on his door and Kurt went to let Wes inside. Kurt offered him refreshments, as he always did, and then went to get them both water. Kurt found it helped him to have a glass in his hand when he talked.

“You look pensive today,” Wes said once Kurt sat down across from him in the living room.

Kurt shrugged. “I was thinking about Rachel.”

“You miss her.” It was a statement of fact.

“Yes,” Kurt agreed. “But…”

“But?” Wes prompted.

“But I don’t know that I’m ready to reach out to her,” Kurt said. “I might never be.”

“Why do you think that?” 

Kurt was quiet for a few minutes. “Did I ever tell you why she stopped coming in the end?”

“No,” Wes said. “You simply led me to believe that you had grown apart.”

“That was true,” Kurt sighed. “We had been growing apart. She was hurting so much from losing her soul mate and I just… I couldn’t help her. I couldn’t help myself. And then we argued.”

“What about?” Wes asked.

“She said I wasn’t even trying to get out of the house,” Kurt said. “And I couldn’t deny it. I wasn’t trying. I don’t want to leave.”

“And that upset her?” Wes asked.

Kurt nodded. “She said I was throwing away my chance to meet my soul mate.”

“And what did you say to that?” Wes said.

“It was a long time ago, but I think it was something along the lines of I don’t want to meet my soul mate,” Kurt admitted. “And that really set her off. She went on and on about how she had lost her soul mate and how I was being selfish and she said something about hoping I was happy locked up alone for the rest of my life before storming out. She was always very good at storming out dramatically.”

“You’ve never talked about soul mates before,” Wes said. “Can you tell me why you wouldn’t want to meet yours?”

Kurt shook his head. He didn’t want to talk about this. But then he started talking anyway. “Everyone I love dies. I’d rather be alone than…” Kurt shook his head again. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Kurt, you are a very intelligent man,” Wes said kindly. “Logically, you must realize that there is no way that you made anything happen to the people you love. You didn’t cause your mother’s cancer. You didn’t cause the ice on the highway that resulted in the accident that took away your family.”

“I know that!” Kurt shouted and in his agitation stood and began to pace his living room. “I know that I didn’t cause their deaths. I know that there was nothing that I could do to prevent them from dying. But what if… what if I met my soul mate and we fell I love? And what if he died? I’ve seen what that kind of loss can do to a person, with both my father and with Rachel. I couldn’t go through that. I can barely keep it together now.

“And even if nothing bad happened, what exactly do I have to offer someone?” Kurt continued. “What can anyone possibly want with someone as fucked up as I am? I can’t even leave my fucking house. I’m broken.”

“You aren’t broken,” Wes said. “You’re a little banged up by life, but you aren’t broken. You’re still here and still trying.”

Kurt snorted. “I haven’t made any real progress in almost two years.”

“That’s not true,” Wes said. “I think you’ve made progress. You are managing your symptoms. You are able to talk about your losses without an attack. And today, you finally admitted your true reasons for resisting treatment. That’s progress.”

Kurt didn’t say anything to that and they sat in silence for a while before Kurt couldn’t stand the quiet any longer. “I still don’t want to meet my soul mate.”

“Okay,” Wes said evenly. “The question is: do you want to continue to lock yourself away from everyone else or do you want to improve?”

“I don’t know,” Kurt admitted softly.

BKBKBKBKBK

Growing up in a small town in Ohio was tough for a kid like Kurt had been. Some gay people could hide, but Kurt wasn’t one of them. In many ways, he was a stereotypical gay man. He loved fashion and loved to perform. He had a soft, effeminate voice and refused to dress down for the sartorially illiterate. He had loved tea parties as a child and musical theater as a teen. And he was just stubborn enough to not want to hide who and what he was. In other ways, he was distinctly non-stereotypical. For instance, he had grown up in his father’s garage and could fix a car better than most mechanics. 

But being gay in Lima had meant that he was singled out by the bullies. All of his friends were bullied in some way or another, but only Kurt had truly been targeted every day of his high school career. One bully in particular had taken delight in making Kurt’s life hell. But Kurt tried not to think about Karofsky these days. 

When he was a junior in high school, Kurt’s soul mark had appeared. It was a little earlier than most, but Kurt had been thrilled. The name on his left wrist had been a sign to Kurt that no matter just how shitty life was right then, that one day he would have someone to love him. It had gotten him through some pretty tough days.

Kurt was always very careful not to let his mark be seen. From the very beginning, he had taken to wearing a leather cuff to hide the final proof that he was gay from his bullies. It was pointless, in the end, however, since those same bullies had just ripped the leather cuff away and had done the unthinkable. It was taboo to try and look at another person’s soul mark without permission. In fact, it was also illegal. Those boys didn’t care however. They ripped away the cuff and then showed Kurt just how much they hated him for being different.

Keeping his mark covered had become an obsession after that. Kurt never let anyone see his mark. Other than those boys in high school—and Kurt seriously doubted that they remembered his mark after all this time—only Kurt knew the name of his soul mate and he intended to keep it that way. 

The chances of Kurt’s soul mate finding him were little to none. He might be a world famous author, reclusive or not, but he used a pen-name. He had started that way because before becoming a published author, Kurt had been a writer for Vogue and he hadn’t wanted his two public personas to clash. These days, if someone Googled Kurt Hummel, they would find outdated articles from Kurt’s days at Vogue and very brief profile from his outdated Linked In account. 

The only way that his soul mate would be able to find him would be by chance or by hiring a private investigator and Kurt preferred it that way. He had only told Wes part of the reason for not wanting to meet his soul mate. Part of it was definitely self-preservation. But there was another part that couldn’t stand the thought of him being the cause of anyone else dying. He knew it made no sense rationally. He knew that there was no direct connection between the people he loved dying and his actions. But, rationality was not something that his heart understood these days. 

Two weeks after that memorable session, Kurt was once again waiting for Wes to arrive. In the past two weeks, he had considered Wes’ words and hadn’t really come to any sort of conclusion. On the one hand, he did miss some things. He missed being able to see a show or walk through Central Park. He missed getting coffee from his favorite coffee shop. He missed seeing the fruit and flower vendors on the streets in the spring and summer. He missed Rachel.

But, if he left the safety of his apartment, then he would be opening himself up for more heartache. And just because he had learned to manage his panic attacks at home didn’t mean that they would just disappear. He was still likely to have them if he tried to leave the apartment building. And he just couldn’t face the idea of becoming another sidewalk spectacle. Finally there was his soul mate. 

Did he want to get better? Yes and no.


	15. Spirit Animals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt can see spirit animals and do magic. When Blaine discovers his secret, he's drawn into Kurt's magical world.

Kurt Hummel was not an ordinary boy. From as far back as he could recall he had known that he was special. His mother had said so often enough in the years before she died. His father said so often enough in his mother's place in the years since.

Now most people would hear a parent tell a child that they are special and assume it was just the normal bias that every parent had for their child. In his case, Kurt knew that it was much more than that, though it took him some time to figure out just how special he truly was. 

The first day of kindergarten, Kurt had played with the other children, but he couldn't understand why those same children looked at him strangely when Kurt also wanted to play with all the pretty animals that were there with them. In fact, most of the kids and the teacher just thought he was playing pretend and, when Kurt refused to stop talking to the animals, the teacher took his mother aside after school for a talk.

That talk had led to another talk between Elizabeth Hummel and her son on the drive home from school.

"Kurt, your teacher said that you spent most of the day talking to the animals?" Elizabeth asked quietly.

"Yeah," Kurt said happily, knowing his mom would believe him, even if no one else did. "There were all kinds of animals. And some were friendly and some were shy. There was even one bear, who was littler than King but he was really mean, but Jack growled at him and he went away."

Elizabeth sighed. "Kurt, sweetie, we need to talk about the animals you see."

Kurt's lower lip stuck out in a pout. "You don't believe me either."

"No, Sweetie, of course I believe you," Elizabeth said as she pulled into their driveway. She unbuckled her seatbelt and then went to unhook Kurt. When Kurt was free from the safety restraint, she pulled him into a hug. "I believe you, just like I believe in Jack and King and Tara. But not everyone can see spirit animals and so not everyone will believe you."

"Spirit animals?" Kurt asked as he let his mother lead him into their small house. "What's that mean?"

Elizabeth hummed as she thought. "Well, you told me that Jack is mostly see-through, right? And I bet these other animals are like that too."

"Right," Kurt nodded.

Elizabeth went on even as she set out cookies and milk on the kitchen table for Kurt's snack. "Well, regular animals are never see-through, like Mr. Collins' dog Maxine, right?"

Kurt chewed thoughtfully on the oatmeal cookie and then nodded slowly. "Maxie can't talk to me either. Well, she can talk to Jack, but not to me, and Jack can tell me what she said, but it's not the same."

"Right," Elizabeth said with a small smile. "So animals like Jack are special animals, but not everyone can see them. In fact most people can't see them. Only very, very special people can see spirit animals."

"So that makes me special?" Kurt asked with a happy smile.

"Very, very special," Elizabeth agreed with a grin and then stole a bite from Kurt's cookie.

"Hey!" Kurt said with a giggle. "No fair. You have lots of cookies and I only gots two."

"Give me one more bite and I'll let you have another cookie," Elizabeth bargained.

Kurt thought about that and then grinned. "Deal. So if not everyone can see the animals, what does that mean?"

"It means that very few people believe in spirit animals at all," Elizabeth said as she chewed her second bite of cookie. "Most people think it's all pretend, like the fairy tales we read before bedtime."

That made Kurt frown again. "But that's no good. If they don't believe, they won't ever be able to talk and play with their spirit animals."

"Most people will never be able to see or play or talk to their spirit animals even if they do believe," Elizabeth said sadly. "I wish I could see mine, but I know it will never happen."

"Tara's such a pretty bird," Kurt said. "And she sings so pretty, too."

"Where is she now?" Elizabeth asked.

Kurt pointed to the curtain rod above the window by the sink. "She says it’s okay that you can't see her. And Jack says that one day you will. That everyone sees their animal friend in the end. What does he mean?"

Elizabeth sighed. "Well, I think he means when people die. There are old stories about spirit animals protecting their humans in this life, and then showing them the way into the afterlife."

"What's the afterlife?" Kurt asked.

"It's where our souls go after we die," Elizabeth said. "There's only happiness there, and we can finally be one with our spirit animals."

"Be one with?" Kurt asked.

Elizabeth nodded. "Yep. See, what makes spirit animals so special is that they are really a part of us. Jack is a part of you and Tara is a part of me."

"And King is a part of Dad?" Kurt said and then he nodded in answer to his own question. "Yeah, that makes sense. He's sometimes silly like Daddy, but he can be gruff and grumpy sometimes too. But Jack's not anything like me, really."

"Sure he is," Elizabeth said with a smile. "And as you grow up, you'll see just how much. But Jack's smart and strong just like you are."

"I wish I could be a leopard, too," Kurt said. "I'd climb to the tippy top of the jungle gym like Jack and then roar. And then I could jump all the way from the top to the ground without falling or getting hurt."

Elizabeth sat back in her chair and wondered how much Kurt was ready to know about just how special he was. Was he too young? But Elizabeth felt an irrational fear that if she didn't tell him now, that she wouldn't have time to help him really understand everything before it was too late. Call it a premonition or paranoia, but she feared that she would not live long enough to see her son's graduation from elementary school.

"I'll tell you a secret," Elizabeth said conspiratorially. "I think someday you'll be able to do just that."

GLEE

Elizabeth Hummel was descended from a long line of "Special" people just like Kurt. She herself didn't inherit the gift, but she wasn't surprised when Kurt did. And because she came from such a strong line, there was plenty that she was able to teach Kurt in the few short years she had with him before her death. And after her death, she left a large trunk filled with books and journals and other things so that Kurt could continue to learn without her there to guide him.

It would have been ideal to have the direct guidance from one just like Kurt, rather than the second hand information that Elizabeth could share, but she had long ago cut ties with her family when she broke with tradition and married Burt Hummel instead of the boy that her father had chosen for her. They would not accept her back, nor would they assist her son. 

By the time Elizabeth died when Kurt was eight years old, his mother had explained not only who and what he was, but where he came from and why he could do the things he could do. By that time, he had already learned to merge with Jack, taking on his leopard form. He had also learned that seeing spirit animals and merging with his own was not the only magic that came with his gift.

Throughout history, every ancient civilization had stories of people who could shift into their spirit animal. Those same people could also wield magic and had healing powers. They were the shaman, the witch-doctor, the healer, the witch, the gypsy. By any name, they all stemmed back from the same source. Kurt preferred healer to any other term he could find, but mostly just thought of himself as special.

One thing that Elizabeth had drummed into Kurt was the need to not share with anyone about his gifts. Well, anyone outside of the family.

"Not even my friends?" a seven year old Kurt had asked with a pout.

"Remember how the children at school treated you when you told them you could see animals when they couldn't?" Elizabeth had said. "People will not understand. Someday, you'll find your soul mate and you can tell him. But until that day, just you, me and your dad can know."

She had also forbidden Kurt from using his gifts against people. He could use protection spells and healing spells, but nothing that would harm others, even temporarily. Kurt got very good at protection spells when he started junior high school. He'd always been different, but the older he got, the more those differences stood out and the less tolerant his peers became.

By the time Kurt started at McKinley High, he was practically encased in a cocoon of protective spells. The bullies could taunt him, but usually found themselves distracted almost as soon as they began. And they couldn't even think of actually harming Kurt.

Those same protective spells, however, had the unfortunate side effect of making him all but invisible to the rest of the school. No one noticed him and he therefore had no friends. It was safe but lonely. Until he joined glee club in his sophomore year.

The only reason Kurt decided to join glee club was because he missed singing with his mother. When she died, and Tara disappeared, music left the Hummel house. It wasn't intentional, but both father and son associated music with Elizabeth Hummel and it was too painful at first to have it around. But as Kurt grew up, he slowly discovered music again and wanted to express himself through that music, just as his mother had. There was a reason Elizabeth's spirit animal was a songbird.

And Kurt found joy singing with the glee club, even if they didn't often give him solos. And he found friends in the group, even if they weren't always as supportive as he might hope they would be. And Kurt slowly began letting his protective barriers down, both emotional and magical, to let those friends in.

A lot of things changed in Kurt's life because of joining glee club. One was that his father started dating again and got very serious very quickly. Carole Hudson was a good woman, but she wasn’t Kurt's mother and there were certain things that Kurt just wasn't ready to tell her.

"Dad, have you considered what it will mean if they actually move in here?" Kurt asked Burt when the man brought up the idea of asking Carole to move in. "Finn is an idiot and can't keep a secret to save his life. He couldn't know about what I am. And that means that Carole couldn't know, either, because you can't very well ask her to lie to her son. Plus, where would Finn stay? In my room? Where would I be able to have any privacy to shift? Or practice my gifts?"

"We'll get a bigger house," Burt said. "Or build onto this one. But buddy, we can't keep hiding ourselves away from life. I'm not saying you should just blurt out everything to Carole and Finn, but you shouldn't let what you are keep you from being able to form healthy relationships, either."

Burt, of course, got his way in the end, though not until they sold both houses and bought one that had private rooms for the boys. Kurt actually ended up with a suite that was almost as large as his old basement. He had a walk in closet for his many fashions and a private bathroom and a small dressing nook that he could use for practicing his gifts. And when he locked the door, he could shift into his leopard form for a little while.

But seeing his father happy and smiling again made all the changes worth it in the end.

GLEE

Of course, just as things were starting to settle down at home, things took a turn at school. One of the jocks was going out of his way to make Kurt's life hell.

"Why is this happening?" Kurt cried on his bed one afternoon. Karofsky had been particularly brutal in his shoves and cruel slurs that day. "Why aren't the spells working?"

Jack curled up beside Kurt and said, "He wants you. It confuses the protection spells because he himself is confused in his intent. He shoves you because he wants to touch you."

Kurt growled much like Jack. "Great, I've got a bully with a sexual identity crisis. I can't increase the protective spells without shutting everyone else out and becoming practically invisible again."

"Perhaps it is time to talk with your father," Jack said.

"I don't want to upset him," Kurt sighed.

"He will be more upset if you are injured or worse," Jack said.

So Kurt talked it over with his father, who was rightfully upset, but didn't have any answers. Then things escalated and Karofsky made death threats, but without witnesses, the school board wasn't willing to do anything about it. So Burt and Carole talked and came up with a solution.

"There's a school in Westerville," Carole said. "It has a strict no tolerance policy against bullying of any form."

"We talked to the headmaster," Burt said. "He's willing to enroll you mid-term. And there's tests you can take for academic scholarships, so it won't break the bank. The only drawback is that it's a boarding school."

Kurt's eyes widened. "Dad, I can't share a room."

"I know," Burt said. "And I talked to the headmaster about that too. He said we could pay a little extra to get you a single room."

"That's going to cost a lot of money," Kurt said with a frown.

"Which is why I mentioned the scholarships," Burt said. "The headmaster thinks that with as well as you've tested in the past, you'll be able to qualify for at least a partial scholarship. And if you do as well as I suspect, you'll get a full scholarship and then all we'd need to pay for would be the room and board plus your uniforms."

Kurt nodded and took a deep breath. "When do I take the test?"

"Saturday," Burt said. "But we're enrolling you either way. The house is almost paid off, so we could take out a second mortgage if we had to. We'll move your stuff down tomorrow and get your uniforms bought, and then you'll start classes on Thursday. I won't have you in a school where the bullies are allowed to run roughshod. I can't lose you, Kurt."

Kurt held back the tears as he nodded. "I know. I'll get that full scholarship. I just wish..."

Burt knew exactly what Kurt wished. He wished that he hadn't promised Elizabeth that he wouldn't ever use magic to harm anyone, even in self-defense. She had always insisted that it would cause too many questions and do more harm than good.

"I know," Burt said. "But that's not an option."

"The new school has a glee club," Carole said brightly, missing the significance of the private moment. "The headmaster said he would arrange for you to have an audition. So you'll still be able to sing. And they offer dance classes and have a fashion club."

Kurt gave her a small smile. "Thanks. I really do appreciate all you've done. It's just... a lot to take in all at once."

"I know, kiddo," Burt sighed. "For me too. But I need to know you'll be safe. And look at it this way, Dalton has a much better reputation for academics. That will increase your chances of getting into whatever college you want to go to later."

Kurt nodded. "I always said I need to get out of Lima, I just didn't think it would be this soon."

GLEE

Kurt was impressed by everything he learned about Dalton from the brochure that Carole gave him to read, and he was even more impressed by the campus when Carole and Burt helped him move the next day. But even with all the great things that Kurt learned about the school, it didn't change the fact that he felt like he was running away from his troubles or that he didn't feel ready to be away from his dad. It was just one more major change in his life that he didn't feel prepared to face.

Kurt kept a tight smile on his face through the interview with Mr. James, the headmaster, and through the campus tour with Mr. Carson, the dorm supervisor. He was genuinely pleased to find that his dorm room had a private bathroom and a large closet. It wasn't as big as his suite in the new house, but it was bigger than he thought it would be. Jack would actually be able to move around without bumping into everything.

They moved Kurt's stuff in and Burt and Carole helped him get unpacked, then they all went to lunch before heading to the shop in town that carried the Dalton uniforms. By four in the afternoon, everything that could be done to delay their departure had been done and all that was left was saying goodbye.

Burt held onto Kurt for a long time when the time came, unwilling and unable to let his little boy go. Carole finally had to pull him away.

"You'll call every day," Burt said.

"I promise," Kurt agreed tearfully. "Every day."

And then Kurt was left on the sidewalk in front of his dorm, waving to the car as it disappeared.

GLEE

Kurt had seen the other students around campus when he was being given the tour, and had even seen a few guys in the hall of the dorm, but hadn't yet talked to anyone. 

"You need to eat," Jack told him sternly when Kurt considered simply skipping the evening meal. "You will make friends and everything will be fine. You are not a coward, so stop acting like one."

Kurt glared at the leopard but went to the bathroom to make sure his hair was well-coiffed and his outfit in fine shape for meeting new people. He was happy that Mr. Carson had explained that uniform was not required for dinner. Though, as Kurt made his way across the campus to the dining room, he noted that most of the boys had not changed. Only those in athletic clothes, and a few boys that Kurt assumed were going somewhere for the evening, were out of uniform. 

"I stand out," Kurt muttered to Jack.

"Good," Jack countered. "You like standing out. That's why you dress as you do. And it will help the other boys recognize you as new."

"Doesn't mean that they'll approach me," Kurt sighed. "Even if they can't bully me here, doesn't mean that they have to like me."

"I have met some of the other animals," Jack said. "They have said that the boys are mostly friendly."

"They're biased," Kurt countered as they approached the dining room. "Now hush, or people will think I'm talking to myself."

Kurt went through the serving line and was pleased to see that the food was a lot better than the paltry offerings they had at McKinley. He selected the grilled salmon on a bed of rice with a side of steamed vegetables, grabbed a bottle of water from a cooler beside the soda fountain and then turned to face the vast sea of tables.

"You're new, right?"

Kurt turned back to find the boy who had been behind him in the serving line standing there with a smile on his face. 

"Yes. I just moved in and start classes tomorrow," Kurt said. "I'm Kurt Hummel."

"Blaine Anderson," the boy said with a grin. "I love your outfit, by the way. Come on, you can sit with us."

Kurt found himself following the shorter boy almost automatically. "Who is us?"

"Well, we're all in the Warblers," Blaine said. "Dalton's glee club. But we aren't snobs about non-Warblers. So you'll be more than welcome to join us."

"Mr. James said that he was going to arrange an audition for me," Kurt said. "I was in my glee club at my old school."

"You sing?" Blaine asked with a huge smile. "That's great. Then you'll definitely fit in with the guys."

They arrived at the table in question and Blaine introduced Kurt to the boys who were already sitting there. "That's Wes, David, Jeff, Nick, Trent and Charlie. Guys, this is Kurt. He's new and he's going to audition for the Warblers."

"Nice to meet you all," Kurt said a little shyly as he took the only free seat left at the table, the one between Blaine and Trent.

"So you're the new guy that Mr. James was telling us about," David said. "What part do you sing?"

"I'm a countertenor," Kurt said.

Wes and David shared a look before Wes said, "Well, then, we'll definitely look forward to hearing your audition."

"Wes and David are on the council," Jeff explained. "They get final say in things like who gets in and what songs get sung. But we're actually a pretty democratic group."

"You'll audition for the whole group," Nick said. "And everyone will get a say."

"But only the council gets the final word," Wes said firmly.

"So you're the guys I have to suck up to?" Kurt asked cheekily.

"We don't play favorites," Wes said with a frown.

"It was a joke, Wesley," Jeff huffed. "Man you need to lighten up sometimes."

"The Warblers are not a joking matter," Wes said. 

Kurt listened to the interplay but at the same time, he watched the spirit animals that were gathered around the table. Kurt had learned that he could tell a lot about a person by observing their animal.

It was easy to pick out Wes' animal. The owl looked to be as uptight as the boy. David's animal was a marmoset that was staring at him intently. Kurt could tell that while the monkey was quiet for now, that he had the potential for some serious mischief. Trent's animal was a shy little bunny that was content to simply watch the proceedings from the safety of Trent's lap. Jeff and Nick both had water mammals for their animals. Nick's was a beaver and Jeff's was a playful otter. 

Blaine's animal--a Portuguese waterdog that was no more than an overgrown puppy, really--was all over the place. He seemed incapable of sitting still as he ran from one animal to another and then to the people all around him. Kurt could see that Blaine's air of quiet sophistication was more of a mask to fit into the polite group of boys than any true expression of his personality. And the fact that the puppy kept sniffing around Jack and trying to get his attention, spoke volumes.

"He smells of attraction," Jack said to Kurt. "He may not show it, but he wants you."

Kurt nearly choked at the pronouncement, which promptly got Blaine's attention. "Are you okay, Kurt?"

"Just swallowed wrong," Kurt gasped out and then took a long swig of water. "I'm fine."

The rest of dinner, Kurt pointedly ignored Jack and Blaine's puppy and tried to concentrate on the conversation around him. Mostly the guys were discussing the Warblers' chances of winning sectionals this year. Since Kurt hadn't yet heard them perform, he couldn't really offer anything to the conversation, but he was curious, nonetheless.

After dinner, they all walked back to the dorms together, still discussing sectionals. When they reached the split in the path that would take them either to Fanning Hall or to Tiffin Hall, Kurt was pleased to see that Blaine, Jeff and Nick were all in Tiffin with him.

"Do you guys only talk about glee club?" Kurt asked when the conversation died out.

"No, we do have other interests," Jeff said. "Nick and I, for instance, are both on the swim team. Blaine plays soccer. We all like video games. Well, except Blaine only plays really lame games."

"Mario Kart is not lame," Blaine protested.

"It is when that's all you ever want to play," Nick countered.

"I just don't enjoy shooting things or blowing things up," Blaine said.

"Neither do I," Kurt told him. "But I kick ass at Mario Kart and DDR and Guitar Hero."

Blaine grinned. "See, I knew inviting you to join us was a great idea."

"What about movies?" Kurt asked him. "What kinds of movies do you like?"

Jeff groaned. "You had to ask."

"If it's not Disney, it's Harry Potter," Nick told Kurt conspiratorially. 

"I watch other movies," Blaine objected.

"When we make you," Nick countered. "And then we all get to hear about how much more fun it would be if we were watching The Little Mermaid or Goblet of Fire."

Kurt chuckled. "Don't feel bad. My family banned me from watching Sound of Music or Funny Girl in public spaces after I watched both about a dozen times in one week. Only in my room and only with my headphones now."

"Oh, I love Sound of Music," Blaine said. "No one here has any appreciation for classics. Or musicals."

They reached the dorm and Jeff and Nick headed off to their rooms to do homework but Blaine hesitated in the foyer. "Would you like to hang out for a while? No pressure or anything. I'm sure you have lots of unpacking to do, so don't feel like you have to say yes."

Kurt chuckled. "Well, my unpacking is done. The only plans I had for the evening were to sit in my room and watch a movie while I pretended not to be homesick."

"Oh!" Blaine said with a smile. "Well, you can definitely do that just as well with company, can't you?"

"Sure," Kurt said. "But don't you have homework to do, too?"

Blaine shrugged. "Unlike Jeff and Nick, I don't put off assignments until the last minute and I actually use study hall to study rather than goof off. Well, most days I do. I have been known to get involved in a game of Draw Something on occasion."

"You are truly a rebel," Kurt teased. "So, my room or yours?"

Blaine bit his lip. "Well, my roommate is probably studying for his chem test."

"My room it is," Kurt said.

GLEE

Kurt's first day of class wasn't as bad as he thought it might be. Having met some people beforehand made a huge difference. He found that he knew at least one person in all but one of his classes. And the one class where he didn't know anyone, he was quickly approached by a boy named Greg, who told him that Nick had asked him to keep an eye out for him.

Blaine was actually in four of Kurt's classes and Kurt was very happy about that. While watching a bootleg copy of Wicked, the two boys had bonded over Vogue. They had disagreed good-naturedly about Lady Gaga and Katy Perry's musical merits. They had even discussed hair care and skin care. All under the watchful eye of Jack and Rolf. (Kurt had almost giggled when he heard Rolf introduce himself. It was just such the right name for Blaine's animal spirit.) 

As much as Kurt had enjoyed making friends with the kids in his old glee club, he had never connected to any of them as quickly or as deeply as he had with Blaine. He felt like Blaine understood a lot of what Kurt had been through, even if they hadn't yet talked about it. And Blaine seemed to loosen up as the night wore on and didn't hold himself back. He happily bounced on Kurt's bed and danced around the room while he sang along with the musical. 

Blaine, back among the rest of Dalton, was a lot more repressed. He was polite to a fault and held himself stiffly. If Kurt hadn't been able to see Rolf, he might have been completely shocked by the drastic change. But while Blaine would politely greet students in the hall, Rolf would give away Blaine's true feeling. One boy, Rolf snarled and snapped the entire time the boys exchanged pleasantries, while the other boy's lizard seemed to smirk down at Rolf from the boy's head. Another time, Kurt saw Blaine blithely listen to Jeff's news that there was a substitute in their biology class, thus postponing their quiz, while Rolf was practically dancing with glee.

Watching Blaine and Rolf was a new experience for Kurt. Though there was almost always some difference between the face that people showed and their true feelings, it was never as pronounced as it was in Blaine. He was like two different people. It made Kurt wonder what Blaine had been through in his life to make him feel like he had to hide who he was from the world.

"What are you doing this weekend?" Blaine asked Kurt at lunch on Friday.

"Well, besides trying to catch up with two months of work, I'll be taking the scholarship test on Saturday," Kurt said ruefully. "Why?"

Blaine shrugged. "Just thought we could hang out. Maybe go for coffee."

Kurt glanced at Rolf, who was dancing about nervously, belying Blaine's casual calm air. He had to smile at the dichotomy. "Well, if you don't mind making it a study date, I would love to. Is Sunday okay?"

Blaine's face lit up. "Sunday is perfect. I know a great coffee place where we can set up shop and they won't kick us out for hours. We could work on the English assignment together. And then if we get finished early, we could do some window shopping. There are a few really great boutiques and consignment shops downtown."

Kurt chuckled. "I've seen Westerville and I'm not sure you can classify Main Street as downtown, but, I'll let that slide."

Just then, some of the other Warblers joined them and talk turned to other topics.

"We've scheduled your audition for Monday, Kurt, if that is acceptable?" Wes asked him formally when he joined the table.

"I'll be ready," Kurt confirmed, though he wasn't so sure of that. He really did have a lot to do this weekend, and now he had to decide on an audition piece as well.

GLEE

Kurt had always done well with standardized tests and the scholarship test he took on Saturday morning was no exception. He breezed through the various sections well before the time limit was close to being finished. There were perhaps two questions on the entire exam that he wasn't positive that he had right.

Mrs. Heinemann, the guidance counselor who had administered the test, assured Kurt that it would be scored and he would know the results by Friday at the latest.

Kurt was surprised to find Blaine waiting for him outside when he finished up. Blaine tried to play it off as coincidence, like he was just passing by, but Rolf gave him away.

"Good, you're finally here," Rolf said with a sloppy puppy grin as he sniffed and licked at Kurt's hand. "Now we can go eat and then Jack and I can run and play tag and nap while you guys do whatever humans do with the books."

"So, lunch?" Kurt suggested, barely keeping his grin in check.

"Great," Blaine said. "I'm starving."

They did end up studying together that afternoon and most of the evening, and Blaine proved quite useful with helping Kurt work on the makeup assignments. Then on Sunday, they had their study date. Much to Kurt's surprise, they finished everything by one, and were able to spend a couple hours browsing through the shops. He even found an antique brooch that he fell in love with on sight and bought for a fraction of its true value.

When they got back to Dalton, Blaine volunteered to help Kurt pick out and rehearse a song for his audition, but Kurt declined. 

"I want it to be a surprise," Kurt said. "Besides, I feel like I've totally been monopolizing your time all weekend. Your other friends must surely be missing you."

Blaine smiled and said, "Yeah sure. I'll just go see what Jeff and Nick are up to. Or maybe Trent." 

But even as Blaine said that, Kurt watched Rolf droop and tuck his tail between his legs. A part of Kurt wanted to take it back and invite Blaine to stay but another part really did want a little time alone. He needed a little time alone. His animal spirit was feline and felines were solitary creatures. Well, except for lions, but they were the exception. Kurt needed time without other people around.

Besides, there was a spell that he had been working on that he thought he was close to perfecting and he couldn't practice with Blaine in the room. So Kurt let him go, even though he felt like he had literally kicked a puppy.

GLEE

Standing up in front of a room filled with Warblers was a little intimidating, even after having sung for New Directions on numerous occasions. Standing up to sing the one song that most reminded him of his mother was even more intimidating. But as the first notes of the Beatles’ “Blackbird” began to play on the stereo, Kurt closed his eyes and let himself get lost in the music.

Tara had been a black-throated blue warbler, and her blue feathers had been so dark they were almost black. Only her breast had been white. “Blackbird” had always been Elizabeth's favorite song and Kurt understood why. Even without seeing Tara, Elizabeth identified with the song instinctively. And so “Blackbird,” to Kurt, would always mean Tara and his mother.

The fact that his mother's animal spirit was a warbler, and he was now auditioning to become a Warbler, was not a coincidence that passed Kurt by unnoticed. He knew that there was a reason that he was brought to this school and to this group of boys. And the only song he could sing, therefore, was "Blackbird," even if it still made him tear up every time he sang it.

He was surprised but pleased when the Warblers began lending backup to his solo. It was a good sign. And when the final strains of the song hummed through the room, there was nothing but silence remaining for long moments as every occupant of the room seemed to have been caught up in the music and emotion that Kurt poured into the song.

"All in favor of Kurt Hummel joining the Warblers?" Wes asked quietly, tentatively breaking the silence. Kurt glanced around and found every boy had his hand raised. "That's unanimous. And the council concurs. Welcome to the Warblers, Kurt."

Kurt smiled at them all. "Thank you."

GLEE

The Warblers gave Kurt a canary. Kurt's first thought was how glad he was that it wasn't a warbler. That would have just been too hard, too much of a reminder of Tara and his mother. But a canary was okay. And this way, he didn't have to try and explain why he couldn't keep the bird. 

On Wednesday, Kurt was called out of class for a meeting with Mr. James. He was surprised to find his father was already waiting in the headmaster's office when he arrived. 

"Dad? What are you doing here?" Kurt asked even as he accepted the tight hug from his father.

Burt shrugged as he let his son go. "No idea. Figure it has to do with the scholarship."

"You would be correct," Mr. James said with a smile as he entered the office carrying a file folder. He took his seat behind the desk and gestured for Kurt and Burt to take the two chairs across the desk from him. "We got the results back from Kurt's test and I'll be honest with you, we were quite shocked by just how well he did."

"How well did I do?" Kurt asked.

"Well, you got all but one question correct," Mr. James said. "That's better than any other student has scored on the scholars test in the more than thirty years we have been using it."

"Which question was it?" Kurt asked. "It was the reading comprehension question about the motivation of the wife in the "Wife of Bath's Tale," wasn't it? I should have picked C instead."

Mr. James chuckled. "You are an amazing young mind, Kurt Hummel."

Kurt frowned and bit his lip. "I just can remember things that other people can't."

"It isn't just your memory that is excellent," Mr. James said. "Your ability to reason and your logic skills are astounding as well. And that's not to mention the fact that the test contains questions assessing fluency in three foreign languages, proving you have a gift in that area as well."

"So does that mean he'll get the scholarship?" Burt asked.

Mr. James nodded. "There is a rarely used scholarship that Kurt qualifies for because of his academic excellence, his reasons for transferring to Dalton, his minority status and your family's financial situation. The Founder's Scholarship covers everything from tuition, to room and board, to uniforms, to college level summer courses, should you choose to take them. What makes it especially unique is that it extends beyond Dalton and into your college career, Kurt. The Founder's Scholarship will provide all of your costs for four years of college as well."

Kurt and Burt were both stunned, but Kurt pulled himself together first. "So, what are the requirements for the scholarship?"

"For Dalton it is simple," Mr. James said. "You must participate in two extracurricular activities while you are a student and you must maintain a GPA of 3.7 or higher."

"Well, I'm already in the Warblers," Kurt said. "So I'll just have to join another club, right? There isn't a limitation on which clubs count?"

"That's correct," Mr. James said. "Anything from basket-weaving to the fencing club would count. As for the college requirements, the school you choose would have to be accredited, though I doubt you would select a school that wasn't. You would also be expected to continue to maintain a 3.7 GPA or higher and pursue at least one extracurricular activity. The biggest difference would be the expectation that you would return to Dalton for at least one week each January to offer peer advice to outgoing seniors and one week during the summer to speak to prospective Dalton students. In effect, you would become a student ambassador of sorts for the duration of the scholarship."

"That doesn't sound too bad," Burt said as he looked at Kurt.

"It sounds quite wonderful, actually," Kurt said. "Not having to worry about how I'm going to pay for college would be great."

"And I'm sure it will allow you a lot more freedom in selecting not only which school you would like to attend, but what you would choose to study," Mr. James said.

"Exactly," Kurt agreed. "I would love to accept the scholarship."

"Good," Mr. James said. "Burt, if you still have the receipts for Kurt's uniforms, we can get those funds returned to you out of the scholarship. Also, there is a small stipend for travel expenses and other expenses that may occur. Kurt, if you give us your account information, we can get a direct deposit set up right away."

The rest of the hour was spent going over the paperwork and having Kurt and Burt sign a number of forms. When it was finished, it was just about time for lunch, so Mr. James suggested that Burt stay for lunch and Kurt showed his father the dining room and the many great offerings there.

They were early, so most of the tables were empty when they sat down, but Kurt didn't mind. It gave him a chance to quiz his father on what he had been eating and whether he was taking care of himself.

"I'll be home a week from Friday," Kurt told his father. "I expect to find no stashes of beer and Carole better not tell me that you've been sneaking ribs at work."

"Hey, I'm taking all that herbal stuff you left for me," Burt said. "That should count for something."

"It does," Kurt said. "But not everything. Dad, I don't want to lose you to heart disease. You know your doctor has been worried about your cholesterol levels. So just please, take care of yourself."

"I will, kiddo," Burt promised just as Blaine came up to the table.

"Hello, do you mind if I join you?" Blaine asked politely. Behind him, Kurt watched as Rolf sniffed warily at King, Burt's bear-spirit. 

"Help yourself," Burt said with a smile. "I'm Burt Hummel, Kurt's dad."

"Blaine Anderson," Blaine said, holding his hand to shake after setting down his tray. "I just want you to know I'm very happy that Kurt was able to transfer to Dalton. He's become a good friend in a very short time."

Burt seemed to size Blaine up and then nodded. "Right. So what do you boys do around here for fun?"

The rest of lunch went well. Some of the other Warblers joined them, including Nick and Jeff, and Burt was able to get to know some of Kurt's new friends before heading back to Lima.

As the four friends made their way to their first class after lunch, Blaine asked Kurt, "So why was your dad here?"

"Meeting with Mr. James," Kurt said. "My scholarship test score came in."

"I hated that test," Nick complained.

"We all hated that test," Jeff said. "Who puts questions in German, French and Spanish on the same test?"

"People who want to torture us," Nick said. "They can't make the test easy or else everyone would qualify for scholarships. What was the scoring? Oh yeah, 85% for a quarter scholarship, 90% for half, and 95% for full tuition scholarship."

"But 5% of the test is foreign languages," Jeff said. "So right away, you're starting with a deficit."

"So, how'd you do?" Blaine asked.

Kurt bit his lip and blushed. "I got all but one question right; that’s 99.86%"

The other three boys stopped dead in the hall. "Out of 700 questions, you got 699 right."

"And that includes those questions in German?" Jeff asked.

"And French and Spanish," Kurt confirmed, still embarrassed.

They were all silent for a minute before Blaine broke the silence. "So, what kind of scholarship do you get for 99.86%?"

"The Founder's Scholarship," Kurt said.

"Wait, isn't that the one that covers college too?" Jeff asked.

"Yeah," Kurt agreed.

"They only give that one out like once a decade," Nick said. "The rules for qualifying are so strict. But I guess you must qualify."

Kurt nodded. "It's really kind of exciting. I mean, I thought I'd be stuck going to Ohio State or something because my dad makes too much for me to get much assistance and not enough to actually help with school. I'd have been paying students loans forever, and would have limited my school search based on prices instead of academics. This opens up a lot of opportunities for me."

"Well, let us be the first to congratulate the Founder's Scholar," Blaine said with a grin. 

"Yeah, man, congratulations," Jeff said.

"Nobody deserves it more," Nick agreed.

GLEE

Kurt had been working on a new transformation for months. It was pretty normal to be able to transform into one's spirit animal, but it was much harder to transform into any other animal. Not impossible, but definitely harder. 

While Kurt loved the strength and power he had as a leopard, it just wasn't a practical animal for Ohio. If he was ever seen, it would be assumed that he was escaped from a zoo or circus or something. He might even be shot. So Kurt started working on transforming into something a lot less conspicuous: a house cat.

Since the form was still feline, it was a good starting point. He didn't have to completely change every characteristic of his natural form, simply modify them. Later, once he got good at that, he might actually try to shift into something else completely. Maybe a dog. Sticking with mammals for the time being seemed like a good idea.

It was the night before Kurt was scheduled to return home for his first weekend visit that he was finally able to complete the transformation successfully. He hopped down from his bed and went to the full length mirror to get a good look at himself. He was definitely a house cat, but he had retained the spots of his leopard form. Huh. Well that hadn't been intentional, but it wasn't too bad. He rather thought he made a handsome cat.

Just then there was a knock at the door and before Kurt could transform back, the door swung open.

"Kurt?" Blaine called out even as he peeked into the room. He froze when he saw Kurt sitting right there on the floor. Blaine's eyes widened and quickly came inside and shut the door behind him. "Kurt? Are you here?"

Kurt obviously couldn't answer, but he was too busy swatting at Rolf's inquisitive nose to answer anyway. And then Blaine was right there and stretching out a tentative hand to Kurt.

"You are a beautiful cat," Blaine said as Kurt allowed him to scratch his chin and then pet him. "But Kurt could get into trouble for having a cat in the dorm. I mean, it wouldn't get him thrown out, or something, but definitely a reprimand."

Blaine looked around the room and didn't see any cat toys or a food dish or even a litter box. "How did he even get you in here?"

Kurt just mrowed at the human boy and butted his hand for more scratching and petting.

"I love cats," Blaine said as he settled down to sit on the floor with his back against Kurt’s bed. "I mean, I think I'm more of a dog person, really, but I love cats too. I love all animals, really. And I know what breed you are. A bengal. You are a descendent from a hybrid of a leopard and a house cat. That's a pretty impressive lineage."

Kurt simply purred and rubbed up against Blaine in a way that he would love to do in human form, but was almost as good as a cat.

They stayed like that for more than an hour. Blaine carried on a one-sided conversation while he petted Kurt. Kurt purred and rubbed and soaked up the attention. And Rolf stood looking on with confusion. He kept up a separate monologue about how the cat smelled like Kurt and looked like a little Jack but wasn't Kurt or Jack, because Kurt wasn’t here but Jack was dozing on the bed.

Finally, Blaine sighed and got up to leave. Kurt was sorry to see him go--he would miss being petted by the boy who smelled so wonderful to him in cat form and made Kurt's heart flip in human form--but he had to get Blaine out before he could transform. And so, Blaine left, leaving a note for Kurt. Rolf gave Kurt one last look before following Blaine out of the room.

Kurt transformed right away and read the note. Someone got wind of a pop quiz in calculus and Blaine wanted to warn him. Not a big deal.

Then the door popped open again and it was like a repeat of before only this time there were two boys staring.

"Kurt? Where did you come from?" Blaine asked. "And..." He looked around the room. "Where's the cat?"

Kurt was frozen with indecision. He had never trusted anyone outside of his mother and father the way he trusted Blaine, and yet... how could he tell him something like this? Blaine would think he was crazy. But Kurt hated to lie to Blaine about anything. Even with the short time Kurt had known Blaine, he found that he was closer to the boy than he had ever been to anyone, including his parents.

"I..."

Blaine entered the room and shut the door behind him. Then he went to the bathroom and the closet, looking for a cat. Then he checked under the bed and then finally the windows, which were both closed and since Kurt was on the fourth floor of the dorm, there was no way a cat or a human could get in or out without some sort of rope or extension ladder. 

"Kurt?" Blaine said again when it became obvious that there was no cat in the room. "I didn't see you come in, and I was right out in the hall. And I was only out of the room for a minute. But there was a cat here before and now it's gone and you were gone before and now you're here. Tell me what's going on, please Kurt. Tell me I'm not going insane."

That's what finally broke Kurt's frozen state. "You aren't crazy. I promise."

Blaine took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay. So what's going on?"

Kurt sat down on his bed and patted it. "Come sit with me and I'll tell you everything. When I'm done, you might think I'm the crazy one."

Blaine shook his head in denial as he joined Kurt. "Never."

Kurt smiled at Blaine, but he was still nervous as he began to talk. "I'm going to tell you what my mother told me when I was little. Everyone on earth has a spirit animal that is a part of them and yet separate from them. That animal is the essence of a person, good and bad. But most people can't see those spirit animals. Most people don't believe they exist."

"But you believe in them," Blaine said.

Kurt nodded. "I believe because I can see them. I can touch them and talk to them. And I can understand when they speak to me. They have names and personalities. They are part of their human, reflecting their emotions and thoughts, and yet they’re separate as well."

"So, I have a spirit animal?" Blaine asked. "What kind? What's his name?"

Kurt smiled. "His name is Rolf and he's a Portuguese waterdog and he's the most adorable puppy you'd ever want to meet."

"That's... just amazing," Blaine said. "But what does all of that have to do with the cat that was here before?"

"I'm getting to that," Kurt said. "There are special people, like me, who can not only see the spirit animals, but have other gifts as well. One of those gifts is the ability to become one with their spirit animal and take their form."

Blaine's eyes widened. "So... that was you I was petting? You're a bengal cat? Because I wouldn't have guessed that for you."

Kurt sighed. "Well, that was me, but that wasn't my spirit animal. You see, Jack, my spirit animal, is a leopard. But that's not the most useful form to inhabit in Ohio, so I've been working on taking another form for a while. Today was the first time I was successful."

"So you can become a leopard?" Blaine asked. "Can I see?"

Kurt bit his lip but then nodded. "Just... don't freak out. I won't hurt you. I'm still me, no matter what form I'm in."

"Okay," Blaine said. "No freaking out. I promise."

Kurt shifted and Blaine's eyes were wide with shock, and Kurt could smell both fear and wonder radiating off the human boy. And under those scents, he still smelled like the most wonderful boy on earth to Kurt. 

Blaine was a lot more nervous about reaching out his hand to the larger wild cat, but he did it and soon was petting Kurt in much the same way he had when Kurt was a domestic cat. And Kurt let out a purr that was much lower and rumblier, but just as content.

"I thought you were impressive before," Blaine said as the smell of fear began to fade away. "You're ten times more impressive now."

Kurt shifted back to human form and was disappointed when Blaine reluctantly stopped petting him.

"There's more," Kurt said. "I can do things. Magic things."

"Like Harry Potter magic?" Blaine asked. “Because I always figured there had to be some truth to all of that.”

"Nothing quite that flashy," Kurt said. "Well, that's not really true. I probably could do some of that stuff. But I promised my mother that I would only ever use my gifts for protection and healing. It's dangerous to do the flashy stuff because you get noticed."

"And that's a bad thing," Blaine said with a nod of understanding. "Either people will not believe you and call you crazy or will believe you and want you to do stuff for them and never leave you alone."

"Or they’ll believe me and call me a witch and try to burn me at the stake," Kurt said wryly.

"So what exactly are you?" Blaine said.

Kurt shrugged. "There's lots of different names and lots of different legends. Shaman, shape-shifter, werewolf, vampire, witch-doctor, gypsy, witch with a cat familiar... I don't really label myself that way. I'm just Kurt and I can do some things that other people can't."

"You are an amazing person, Kurt Hummel," Blaine said with true admiration. "Now explain to me how vampires fit into this."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "All myths and legends are born from some kernel of truth. Take one sociopathic guy who can shift into a vampire bat and suddenly you have the legend of Dracula."

"So he wasn't really a vampire?" Blaine asked.

"Nope, just a guy who liked carnage and had an army at his command to create that carnage," Kurt said. "He was a bit obsessed with blood because his bat form lived on the stuff. But he was basically just like me, only insane. Bram Stoker just romanticized the hell out of what was essentially a crazy guy with a few special gifts."

"Huh. Who knew?" Blaine said.

"Any other questions?" Kurt asked.

"A million, but I think I can narrow it down to one for now," Blaine said. "Why is my dog called Rolf?"

Kurt chuckled. "I would think you would know that better than I would. I don't name them. They tell me their names. And he said his name was Rolf. I assumed it had something to do with the Muppets."

Blaine blushed. "I used to love watching the Muppet Movie when I was little. It was my brother Cooper's favorite too for a while when I was a baby. In fact, I think it was the only thing we ever agreed on. I probably had watched that movie a dozen times before I could even talk."

"So, that makes sense," Kurt said. He reached out his hand and clasped Blaine's "Jack's always been Jack. I have no idea if I came up with the name or he did."

"This is nice," Blaine said looking down at their joined hands.

"Yeah, it is," Kurt agreed. And then he looked up to see both Jack and Rolf behaving oddly. They were winding around each other and then they passed through each other and the room lit up for a split second with a blinding light.

"What the hell was that?" Blaine asked, still blinking the spots out of his eyes.

"I'm not sure," Kurt said with a frown. He let go of Blaine and knelt down beside Jack and Rolf, who were both looking entirely too pleased with themselves. "What did you guys do?"

"Kurt?" Blaine's voice was a little shaky. "I... I can see them."

Kurt turned away from the animals and rushed back to Blaine's side. "You can see them?"

Blaine nodded. "Rolf is... why is he rolling around on the floor?"

Kurt shrugged. "He's happy. He gets a little silly at times. Can you hear them, too?"

Blaine blinked at Kurt. "Jack just told Rolf to stop acting like a dumb dog. And Rolf said that dogs rule and cats drool."

"I think you and Rolf have seen Homeward Bound a few too many times," Kurt said. "And he got the quote wrong. It's cats rule and dogs drool."

Rolf turned to glare at Kurt but Kurt wasn't having that. "Don't look at me. I didn't say it. I was just quoting the movie." 

GLEE

“Oh my god Kurt,” Blaine whispered as they made their way through the service line for breakfast the next morning. “There are so many of them! How do you ever concentrate on anything?”

“You’ll get used to it,” Kurt promised. “After a while, it’s just like blocking out the people. You know they’re there, but they aren’t all that interesting all the time.”

“Kurt, there’s a monkey swinging from the ceiling fan,” Blaine hissed. “How can you ignore that?”

Kurt chuckled. “That’s Freddy, David’s marmoset. He’s pretty lively, I’ll give you that. You’d never know it to look at David most of the time. But you don’t have any classes with David, so it should be fine.”

Blaine paused and blinked. “David’s animal spirit is a marmoset? That explains so much.”

Kurt just laughed and led the way to their usual table.

GLEE

Blaine didn’t adapt well to the many animals that were running around Dalton. All day, he seemed to be staring off into space, but was actually reacting to the antics of the animals around him. It just got worse once they realized that Blaine could see him and they started to talk to him.

“I’m not sure I can do this,” Blaine sighed as he and Kurt walked back to the dorm after their last class of the day. “I just want to hide in bed and not come out again.”

“I have an idea,” Kurt said. “Come home with me this weekend. You won’t have to deal with it alone that way and there won’t be so many spirit animals to deal with at my house. You’ve already met my dad, and you’ll be able to meet King now. He’s a bear, but more of the Yogi Bear variety than the big scary variety.”

Blaine bit his lip. “What about your stepmom and stepbrother?”

“Finn and Carole?” Kurt said. “Well, they don’t know that I can see spirit animals, and you won’t be able to tell them, either. Maybe someday, but right now, Finn can’t keep a secret to save his life. But their animals are both pretty laid-back. Peaches, Carole’s squirrel, is pretty curious, but doesn’t really intrude much. Finn’s sloth, Speedy, sleeps a lot and when he isn’t sleeping, he’s usually hanging from Finn’s back. He doesn’t talk much at all.”

“And you think they’ll all be okay with me just showing up?” Blaine asked.

“Sure,” Kurt said. “I’ll call and warn Dad, but it will be fine. I promise.”

Kurt made the call while Blaine packed a bag and soon they were on their way to Lima in Kurt’s Navigator. Kurt regaled Blaine with stories of his childhood, when seeing an animal spirit was still new. 

“I could always see Jake,” Kurt explained. “But when I was really young, it was just him. Then I saw Tara, my mom’s warbler.”

“Wait, your mom’s animal was a warbler?” Blaine asked with surprise.

“Yes,” Kurt said with a small smile. “’Blackbird’ was her favorite song, so I thought it fitting to use for my audition. Anyway, I started seeing Tara and King next. I guess I slowly started seeing more animals, but it took a while. I know that at first, I couldn’t tell the difference between a regular animal and a spirit animal. But the first time I saw a lot of animals at once was when I started kindergarten. Suddenly, everyone had an animal and I thought it was so cool. Only no one else could see them. I mean, I knew my mom and dad couldn’t see them, but I figured that was just because they were adults or something. Like grownups didn’t get money from the tooth fairy either.”

Blaine chuckled. “It must have been a very interesting first day of school.”

“Very,” Kurt agreed. “The teacher and the other kids all thought I was a little crazy because I insisted I wasn’t pretending. My mom had to have a little talk with me.” Kurt paused as he remembered that day. “She told me something that day. Well, she told me a lot that day, but one thing really stuck out in my mind. She said that when a person dies, they are finally able to merge with their spirit animal and that they go to a place where they can be happy and nothing bad ever happens. I think she knew, even then, that she wouldn’t live long.”

“When did she die?” Blaine asked carefully.

“A little more than three years later,” Kurt said. “I was eight at the time. It was cancer. It seemed like one day she was diagnosed and the next she was gone. There really wasn’t much warning or time to prepare. But she left me everything she could about my gifts so that I could keep learning. And she made me promise never to use my gifts in anger or in any way that could harm another person, even temporarily.”

“Were you there when it happened?” Blaine asked.

Kurt nodded. “Me and dad were both with her. I knew when it happened, because I saw… she really did merge with Tara before they disappeared. I don’t know what comes after this, but… I like to believe that she was right, that it’s happy and peaceful there, that people are content because they are finally whole.”

“Is that what it’s like, when you transform?” Blaine asked.

“Yes and no,” Kurt said. “Yes, I feel whole and content in a way that I never will when we’re separate. But at the same time, there is always the knowledge that it’s temporary. We aren’t meant to be one being yet. But I can imagine how great it will be once it finally happens. Not that I’m in a hurry to get there, or anything. I rather enjoy my life as it is.”

“Good,” Blaine said as he reached across the console to entwine his fingers with Kurt’s. “I’d hate to lose you just when I’ve found you.”

Kurt glanced at him briefly before turning his eyes back to the road. “So would I.”

GLEE

Burt Hummel greeted the two boys at the door and had a silent conversation with Kurt while they were still on the front porch. Blaine looked between them but remained silent until the staring match was over. He knew it was over and that Kurt had lost the battle because Kurt sighed. “Come on, Blaine, I’ll show you to the guest room.”

“Don’t be long,” Burt said. “Carole said dinner will be in fifteen minutes.”

“Okay dad,” Kurt said with another sigh.

Once they were alone in the guest room, Blaine turned to Kurt. “What was that about, with you dad?”

Kurt shrugged as he began helping Blaine unpack his bag. “Where you would sleep. I had to do it, even though I knew he’d never let us share a room.”

Blaine chuckled. “Why did you have to do it?”

“Because he has to win arguments sometimes,” Kurt said. “So I throw him the easy ones and he doesn’t feel like I’m walking all over him when I win the big ones.”

“And what are the big arguments?” Blaine asked.

Kurt folded a sweater and smiled. “His health is the biggest one. Getting him to eat healthy is a near impossibility, but I guilt, nag and cajole until he gives in. My clothing budget is another.”

“And he’s never caught on to what you’re doing?” Blaine asked with a grin.

“Oh, I’m sure he knows,” Kurt said. “But he does the same thing. He gives in to me on the things that aren’t important to him and I give in to the things that aren’t important to me. It just works out that there are very few things that are important to both of us that we actually disagree on.”

“So he knew you’d give in on the room thing,” Blaine said. “And you know he’ll give in on the clothing budget. So why argue at all?”

“Because I’m a teenager,” Kurt said. “It would be weird if we never fought.”

Blaine was still laughing at that logic when they headed back downstairs for dinner.

GLEE

“Dude, is he your boyfriend?” Finn asked Kurt as they cleared the table after dinner. It was supposed to be a whisper, but with Finn, there was no such thing. Kurt’ face flushed as he glanced back to the table to see all three faces watching them with interest in his answer.

“Finn, you’re an idiot,” Kurt muttered and continued into the kitchen.

“What?” Finn protested. “What did I do?”

“You asked me that in front of my dad?” Kurt demanded quietly. “In front of Blaine?”

“Oh,” Finn said with a frown. “Sorry, I guess. But is he?”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. Not yet, but I think we’re heading that direction.”

“What does that mean?” Finn asked as he began rinsing the plates to put them into the dishwasher.

“It means that we’ve held hands a few times, but that’s it,” Kurt said with a sigh. “And we had a coffee/study date once.”

Finn nodded. “Well, you guys haven’t really known each other very long.”

“I know,” Kurt said. “I need to get back out there. After your idiotic question, Dad’s probably grilling Blaine.”

“I’ll fill the dishwasher,” Finn said with a sigh.

When Kurt returned to the table, he was surprised to find everyone absolutely silent. Well, all of the humans were absolutely silent. King, on the other hand was growling about upstart boys and how easy it would be to just eat the evidence of a murder. While Burt and Carole couldn’t hear the commentary, Blaine certainly could. The boy in question was getting paler and paler by the minute.

“Dad! Knock it off!” Kurt scolded.

“What?” Burt protested. “I wasn’t doing anything!”

“Yes, you were,” Kurt said. “Come on Blaine. We’ll go watch a movie in my room since some people are being so inhospitable.”

Blaine let Kurt lead him away. As they were heading up the stairs, Carole turned to Burt and asked, “What did you do to make the boy pale like that?”

“Nothing!” Burt denied.

Kurt just sighed and they headed to his room. “My dad really isn’t so bad,” Kurt said. “And neither is King. Usually. This is just…”

“The first time you’ve brought home a potential boyfriend?” Blaine supplied.

“Yeah,” Kurt said as he sat on his bed. 

Blaine sat beside him and grabbed Kurt’s hand. “You’re my first potential boyfriend too.”

“Oh,” Kurt said shyly.

They both just sat there in silence for long minutes while Jack and Rolf groomed and cuddled together.

“Has Rolf always been this obvious about his affections?” Blaine asked.

Kurt chuckled. “Pretty much.” Kurt didn’t have the heart to tell him that Jack had actually smelled Blaine’s attraction the first time they met. “The day you just happened to stop by as I was getting out of the scholarship test? He totally gave you up. He was bored and hungry and spilled everything in his excitement to finally get to go eat.”

Blaine buried his face in his hands. “Oh god. And I thought I was playing it so cool.”

“Same thing with the coffee date invitation,” Kurt said. “Rolf was dancing around nervously the whole time. But he gives you away a lot more than that. I can always tell when you’re hiding what you really feel about a person. Like that guy Clint. You’re always polite, but Rolf growls every time he’s near.”

“I’m not sure how to feel about that,” Blaine said.

“Well, don’t feel bad,” Kurt said. “Now, you’ll be able to tell the same stuff about me. Jake may not be quite as exuberant in his actions, but he does give me away at times.”

“You two should just mate,” Jake said from the floor where he and Rolf were curled up together.

“Like that,” Kurt said with a groan. “Jake, humans do not just mate because we’re attracted to each other. We take our time and get to know each other and… I can’t believe I’m explaining this. He knows all of this.”

“He just wants to embarrass you,” Blaine said with a grin. “That’s cool, since I feel sort of better about Rolf, now.”

“At least Rolf doesn’t do it on purpose,” Kurt complained. When Blaine stopped laughing, Kurt looked at him seriously. “You know, you don’t ever have to wear a mask with me.”

“I do know that,” Blaine said. “Even before I knew about any of this, I knew that. You’re the only person at Dalton who has ever seen me bounce on the furniture.”

“You shouldn’t feel the need to wear a mask with your friends either,” Kurt said. “I mean, I’m not saying to just say and do everything that you feel like, but I think Nick and Jeff and Trent and even David and Wes would still like you if you lightened up around them a little and let them in.”

Blaine shrugged, but he looked lost and scared. “I don’t know if I can do it. I’ve been… hiding for so long.”

“Why?” Kurt asked. “Why hide who you are. You’re such an amazing person. I can’t imagine why you would feel the need to hide that.”

Blaine stared at their joined hands and bit his lip for a moment before speaking. “My family isn’t… they aren’t like yours, Kurt. They didn’t beat me or abuse me in any way. But long before I ever came out to them, they made it clear that they didn’t want me to be… so conspicuous. Everything is all about appearances to them. So I learned not to speak my mind or do things that would draw attention to me. And when I came out, their response was that I should just keep it to myself.”

“But you came out anyway,” Kurt said, knowing that to be the truth.

Blaine nodded. “I came out at school and went to the Sadie Hawkins dance with a friend. We were just friends, but that didn’t stop the homophobes from beating the crap out of us. My parents didn’t say anything at the hospital when they came to pick me up. But when we got home, they told me that they were moving me to Dalton and reminded me where standing out had gotten me.”

“So you’ve been hiding ever since,” Kurt said gently. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you’re probably right about the guys, at least the Warblers, accepting me,” Blaine said. “I just…”

“It’s okay,” Kurt told him and wiped away the single tear that had escaped from Blaine’s eyes. “I won’t bring it up again. When you feel ready, you’ll open up. I’m just happy that you feel safe enough to be yourself with me.”

GLEE

The weekend went better than Blaine could have imagined. Kurt had been right: being around the few spirit animals at the Hummel-Hudson home was a lot easier than being around the hundreds of animals at Dalton. He found himself being less distracted by the antics of Peaches and King and Jack and Rolf. He hardly noticed Freddy at all. But still, his distraction didn’t go entirely unnoticed.

On Sunday morning, Burt decided that he, Kurt and Blaine would go out and pick up a coffee cake from the bakery. It was clearly an excuse to get the two boys alone for a private chat. Once they were in the car, Burt glanced at them from behind the wheel. “So, how exactly did Blaine start seeing the spirit animals?”

“Um….” Kurt started. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to tell his father. He hated lying to him, and yet he wasn’t sure what Blaine’s change meant or how Burt would take the truth.

“Don’t try and bullshit me, Kurt,” Burt said. “I remember how you were when you first started seeing them. You’d get distracted and start to giggle for no reason. Now Blaine’s doing it and he wasn’t doing it when I met him before.”

“Sir…” Blaine said but he wasn’t really sure how to explain.

“Dad,” Kurt sighed. “I didn’t intend to tell Blaine, though I was getting to the point where I was actually considering it. I trust him, probably more than anyone aside from you.”

“But you didn’t tell him?” Burt prompted.

“I told you how I’ve been working on taking another form,” Kurt continued. “Well, I perfected it on Thursday and was looking in the mirror when Blaine walked into my room. I should have locked the door, but I guess I forgot, and it won’t happen again, but it happened.”

“Kurt makes a really cute cat,” Blaine said. “And at first I just thought he’d snuck in a pet. I played with the cat for a while and left a note for Kurt and then I left. But almost as soon as I left I realized that I had accidentally taken Kurt’s pen, so I went back.”

“And I had changed back,” Kurt said.

“And the cat was gone,” Blaine said. “I thought maybe I was losing my mind. I mean, I’m a pretty open minded guy, but… the cat was gone and Kurt was there and there was no way for the cat to get out or for Kurt to get into the room without me seeing them.”

“So I explained everything,” Kurt said.

“That still doesn’t explain how Blaine’s seeing the animals,” Burt said gruffly.

“I’m not really sure how it happened or why,” Kurt said. “I’ve looked through all of the books mom left me but haven’t found any answers. But after I explained everything to Blaine, Jack and Rolf, Blaine’s spirit-dog, were acting funny. Then they just sort of passed through each other and there was a bright light.”

“And then I could see them,” Blaine said. “And hear them.”

“Blaine needed a little time to get used to them,” Kurt said. “So I brought him home this weekend.”

“And I’m getting better,” Blaine said. “I don’t think I’ll be quite as overwhelmed when we go back to school.”

“The animals went through each other?” Burt asked. “Have they ever done that before?”

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Kurt said. “And I haven’t been able to find any other instances in the books.”

“But those books came from your mother’s people,” Burt said with a sigh. “And those people were big on not letting outsiders in or insiders out. They wouldn’t write about something like that, even if they knew about the possibility.”

“I guess they weren’t the welcoming type?” Blaine said.

“They shunned her because she chose to marry Dad instead of some jerk they picked out for her,” Kurt said. “Her parents didn’t even come to her funeral. Needless to say, we don’t keep in touch.”

“I’m not sure I feel comfortable not knowing why the animals merged,” Burt said. “Maybe we should contact them and ask.”

“You said it yourself, Dad, they don’t accept outsiders,” Kurt said. “Even if they knew the answers, they wouldn’t tell me. Gift or no gift, I’m an outsider. Blaine doubly so, since he wasn’t born with the gift. We’ll just have to figure it out on our own.”

“Maybe Jack and Rolf know,” Blaine said. “I mean they’re the ones who did it.”

Kurt and Blaine both looked at the animals, who were sitting in the back seat with Blaine.

“We don’t know,” Jack said. “Remember, we are a part of you.”

“We just did what you want to do,” Rolf said cheerfully. “Join, mate, merge.”

Blaine and Kurt’s eyes widened at that.

“What did they say?” Burt demanded as he pulled the car into the bakery parking lot and shut it off. He turned to see his son and Blaine looking stunned.

“They um…” Kurt’s face was flaming red. “It’s personal.”

“They don’t know why I can see them,” Blaine said after a minute, but he too was red in the face.

“But they told you why they did the melding thing?” Burt asked and then he seemed to get it. “Oh. Yeah, I don’t want to hear about that. Wait, I didn’t think you boys were even dating. There should be no melding.”

“There’s been no melding!” Kurt protested. “They just… said it’s what we both wanted to do.”

“We aren’t ready for melding of any sort,” Blaine denied and if it was possible, his face got redder.

“We haven’t even kissed,” Kurt blurted out. “Just hand-holding. And we…”

“But you both want more,” Burt said slowly. “You just aren’t ready to do more, so the animals did it for you. And that ended up with Blaine getting Kurt’s gift.”

“I think so,” Kurt muttered, more than ready for this conversation to be over.

Burt seemed to consider everything for a minute and then nodded. “Right then. Be responsible. Treat each other well. Tell me when you actually do start dating.”

“Okay,” Kurt said meekly. 

“Yes, sir,” Blaine agreed, more than ready to end the conversation.

“Good. Then let’s go get that coffee cake that Carole likes and go home.”

GLEE

After a much less embarrassing brunch, Kurt and Blaine headed back to Westerville. “So, you think that you’ll be able to deal a little better now?” Kurt asked. “I didn’t notice you watching King or Peaches at all today.”

Blaine sighed. “Yeah. I think I’ll be okay. I mean, it’ll be tough. Some of those animals are pretty crazy. Especially the marmoset. And Jeff’s otter seems to move constantly. But I think I can probably mostly tune them out. Unless they start talking to me again.”

“They shouldn’t do that too often,” Kurt assured him. “They just get excited when they realize that a human can understand them. Mostly, they keep to themselves and the other spirit animals around them. Rolf is probably the most talkative spirit animal I have ever met, but I think that’s just because you’re so repressed most of the time and that’s your only outlet.”


	16. Makeover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt is the star of a makeover show. Blaine applies to get his roommate Sam a makeover.

Blaine looked over at his roommate warily. They were watching football, something that Blaine usually enjoyed, but that day there was something weighing on his mind. No matter how exciting the game between Ohio State and Michigan was. Guilt was eating him alive and Blaine knew he had to speak up.

"Um, Sam?" Blaine said hesitantly.

"Yeah," Sam said distractedly, his eyes still trained on the television as the final seconds of the first half ticked away. "Did you see that play? That's the way to end a half!"

"Um, yeah," Blaine agreed, though he hadn't been paying attention to the game at all. "I need to tell you something and I'm not sure if you'll be mad at me or not. I hope you won't. I really hope you don't end up hating me or anything, because I did it for you, you know?"

Blaine had Sam's full attention now. His best friend and roommate was not one to ramble unless he was really nervous about something. "Dude, we got through that whole crush thing, and the time you scared off my date because you were cooking breakfast in your boxers. I'm pretty sure I'm not going to hate you for whatever it is you think you've done."

"You don't know that," Blaine said quietly and stared down at his hands as he twisted his fingers together. He took a deep breath. "Okay, so you know that show I like: Makeover My Life?"

"That's the one with the dude you totally crush on, right?" Sam asked with a nod. "Yeah, you made me watch a marathon of that last month, right. The one with the bride that couldn't make up her mind about anything was pretty funny and the one with the football coach trying to lose weight was good too."

Blaine bit his lip before blurting, "I signed you up. I sent in a letter explaining your circumstances with your career and your love life and everything and they want you to be on the show."

Sam just stared at Blaine in shock. "They... want me to be on the show. They want to give me a makeover. Dude, you really think I need a makeover?"

"Sam, you're my best friend and I love you no matter what," Blaine said diplomatically. "But you have to admit that all the modeling agencies keep telling you the same thing."

Sam slouched back into their worn out sofa and sighed. "Yeah, I'm not polished enough for high fashion or runway work, so I keep getting stuck doing catalogue shoots. I hate catalogue shoots."

"See," Blaine said hopefully. "That's what I told the producers of the show. And they think Kurt can help. Plus, you'll get lots of exposure from being on the show. That's got to be a good thing for your career, right?"

"Yeah, I guess," Sam said doubtfully. Then he eyed Blaine closely. "You sure you did this for me? Or maybe you did it because you want to meet that Kurt guy?"

Blaine blushed and stammered for a moment before finally admitting, "Maybe a little of both. But I really do think he could help your career. And possibly your love life."

"And hopefully your love life too," Sam said with a smirk. "Fine. When is this makeover supposed to happen?"

GLEE

Television was a new entity for both boys and though Blaine got word in November about the makeover, the producers didn't show up at their door for the preliminary interview until January. And then they had to set up the time and shooting schedule. So nothing really happened until late March.

But once the shooting began, it was a whirlwind of activity that disrupted both their lives. Because Blaine had nominated his friend, he was expected to appear on the show as well and he was happy to do it. If for no other reason than he would get to meet and talk to Kurt Hummel. 

The show would be shot over several weeks with cameras following Kurt and Sam around as Kurt worked his magic, but the preliminary part was taped in a small studio in Manhattan. Blaine and Sam arrived at the studio at the appointed time and were nearly overwhelmed by the set and cameras and the sheer number of people involved in what appeared to be a simple show. They were ushered into a room to be made up for camera, but not too much for Sam so that the final reveal would be that much more dramatic.

One of the producers had already brought a cameraman and had filmed Sam going about his daily life for background and Blaine knew from being a regular viewer of the show that Kurt would use that material to point out everything that was keeping his client from personal success. It could be a brutal process, and Blaine was worried not only about Sam's feelings being hurt, but also how he would come across on camera. He was, after all, in a lot of the video that had been taken, since he was Sam's roommate and friend.

Before long, Blaine was being led onto the set and fitted with a lapel microphone. Moments later, Kurt Hummel was there beside him, in another armchair and the producers were counting down. After a few words of introduction, Kurt turned to Blaine.

"Well, it's obvious that you aren't my subject this week. I love your outfit. Very dapper and yet still chic," Kurt said with a smile as he looked Blaine over. "Blaine, you sent in a letter asking for help for your friend and roommate, Sam. Can you tell me why?"

Blaine smiled and nodded. "Sure. Well, Sam is a great guy. He's sweet and kind and just the best friend a person could ask for. But when it comes to dating and to his career, he's seen failure after failure. He deserves to succeed."

Kurt's brows rose, though Blaine was sure that Kurt wasn't truly surprised by anything that Blaine was saying. "You think I can help your friend's career? What does he do?"

"Well, he wants to be a model," Blaine explained. "But mostly he gets catalogue work. The top agencies all tell him the same thing. He doesn't have the polish for high fashion or runway work. He's a gorgeous man and I personally can't see why anyone wouldn't want him to model their designs, but that's just me."

Kurt smirked. "Little crush there?"

Blaine blushed. "No. Definitely not. Been there, done that, got the embarrassing t-shirt. Sam's straight. And my best friend. I just think you could help him find that polish the agencies all want. And maybe that would help with his love life too."

"Tell me more about the girls he's been dating," Kurt said.

"Well," Blaine said slowly. "They've all been nice girls. Mostly. But it seems like none of them take Sam seriously. He's a great guy and he gets his heart broken pretty easily. I'd love to see him happy."

"Well, I can't make any promises about finding the right girl," Kurt said. "But I can do my best with getting him polished up and maybe the right girl will see what you see."


	17. Behind the Curtain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt is a successful Broadway writer raising a child alone. Blaine seeks his help with his own attempt at writing a musical.

From his place behind the curtain, Kurt could only smile as he watched the performers currently out on stage and how the audience reacted to them. This was why he loved his job. This feeling was the reason he had sacrificed so much to get where he was today. He had long ago learned that no joy in life came without heartache, but in that moment, he felt like all the heartache that had come before was worth it. The only thing that could have made it better was if he had been the one out there on the stage. Or if he had someone with whom he could share his success. 

Kurt berated himself for that thought. It wasn’t as though he was totally alone. He had his family: his father, his step-mother and step-brother and most importantly he had Alex. Alexander Jacob Hummel, named after two of Kurt’s favorite designers (Alexander McQueen and Marc Jacobs), was the center of Kurt’s world but he was too young to really understand Kurt’s work. All he knew was that his father made shows. And the rest of Kurt’s family was still in Ohio. It wasn’t that they didn’t support him, but they weren’t there for the day to day successes and failures.

Kurt had to admit that recently, there had been many more successes than failures. It hadn’t always been that way. The day he was rejected by NYADA had seemed like the worst day in his life. But he had been accepted into Pace’s Musical Theater Department and had gotten his degree from there, along with minors in writing and music composition. He was very grateful for those minors now.

After graduating from Pace, Kurt had been excited about finally auditioning for real roles on Broadway, but on the way back from his very first audition two things happened that would change his life forever. The first was that his best friend Sarah, a girl he had met at Pace, texted him that she was pregnant. She was a rather free-spirit but had enough money in her trust fund to support her whimsical nature so that she could pretty much do whatever it was she wanted. At 26, she was on her fourth college and her seventh major and had been disowned by her parents. She was also desperate to have a child to make up for the total lack of love in her own family. And so she had asked Kurt to be her baby’s father. And he had agreed. That day, she had seen the doctor to confirm her pregnancy.

The second thing that happened was not as good. A taxi ran the light and struck Kurt in the crosswalk. He had been rushed to the hospital and almost died three times in the ambulance. It took several long surgeries to save him, but he had lived. It took days before he was coherent enough to know what was going on and what had happened to him. But Sarah was right by his side when he did come around, as was his father, Carole and Finn.

The result of that accident was that he was permanently injured. The taxi had done extensive damage to his throat and voice box and the doctors had to work hard to leave him with any sort of voice at all. He was left with a harsh and gravelly whisper rather than the clear and vibrant countertenor voice he’d had before. He was also left with a permanent limp that made dancing impossible, in addition to the numerous scars, the worst of which were on his hip and neck. Between those two injuries, Kurt knew that his dreams of staring on Broadway had come to an abrupt end.

Kurt fiddled with the ever-present scarf that hid the worst of his scars as he recalled those days after the accident. Sarah had insisted that Kurt come to live with her while he recovered. Burt and Carole had to go back to Ohio and Kurt still needed a lot of physical therapy before the doctors would let him be on his own. It was either stay with Sarah or go to a rehabilitation facility. So Kurt had let his parents close up his tiny apartment and move everything he owned over to Sarah’s place.

They still hadn’t told Kurt’s family about the baby when they left. Kurt wanted to be sure that everything would be alright before sharing that information. For the first few months of Sarah’s pregnancy, Sarah nursed Kurt back to health. Kurt had bad days, where it seemed like he was going to drown in depression, but Sarah and the promise of their child worked to bring him out of that. He was still saddened by the loss of his dream, but with Sarah and the baby, he had a new dream to replace the old.

And then came what Kurt now thought of as the halcyon days of her second trimester. He was stronger and they spent most of their days preparing the apartment for the baby. Kurt told his father and Carole and, after their initial surprise and a few misgivings, they were both ecstatic to be grandparents. Kurt and Sarah went to all the doctor’s appointments together and they found out that they were having a boy. They talked about names and what their son would be like once he was born. They decorated the nursery. They bought toys and clothes. And they talked for hours at a time about their dreams for their child. It was a perfect time and they both enjoyed every moment.

Unfortunately, that happiness was soon replaced with fear and heartache. Six months into the pregnancy, Sarah developed complications. The baby was perfectly healthy, but Sarah’s heart was getting weaker by the day. A simple childhood ailment had weakened her heart twenty years before and no one had known that such a natural thing as carrying a child would damage it further.

Sarah and Kurt talked for days and weeks about what they should do. Kurt and the doctor both wanted Sarah to terminate the pregnancy. Sarah refused. She said that if it came down to a choice between herself and her child, she wanted her child to be the one to live. Kurt couldn’t help but agree to her wishes; he knew he would probably feel the same if he was in her place, but that didn’t make it any easier.

Sarah spent the last months of her pregnancy on complete bed rest. Eventually, her body was too weak to stay at home and she was moved to the hospital. Two weeks before she was due to give birth, Sarah’s heart finally gave out. There was nothing that anyone could do but keep her alive long enough to save Alex. The doctors took her into surgery and an hour later Alex was born and Sarah was gone.

Kurt was heartbroken. He took his son home from the hospital and planned Sarah’s funeral, and he cried more than Alex in those first few days. Sarah left everything to him: the apartment, the money… she even set up a trust fund for Alex, but no amount of money could replace his best friend.

Eventually Kurt found an outlet for his grief. He began writing. He wrote Sarah’s life and set it to song. And eventually, he used some of the money Sarah left to him to produce that musical off-off-Broadway. Though the story was tragic, the show soon had a major following in the theater world and quickly rose to become one of Broadway’s top shows, winning numerous awards, and it was still running four years later.

And tonight, he was watching his second show from the wings. It had been running for six months now and had already won several awards. The critics loved it and the audiences loved it even more. He had found an outlet for his razor sharp wit and creative energy that really touched people. Some people compared his humor to Noel Coward and his music to Stephen Sondheim.

As the second act came to a close, Kurt clapped along with the audience, thrilled with the way the actors and director had brought his work to life. It was a feeling of which he would never grow tired, no matter how many times he saw one of his shows.

He greeted some familiar faces as the cast came off stage after the final bows, but Kurt didn’t linger there for long. He wanted to get back to his son. Alex should have been in bed long before then but, knowing his son, he would have found some way to talk his nanny into letting him stay up. Brittany was such a pushover when it came to Alex. With that thought in mind, Kurt exited the theater through the stage door.

“Mr. Hummel?”

Kurt stopped and turned to face the person who had addressed him. Most people didn’t recognize him; he wasn’t on stage and rarely made public appearances. What he saw was a man about his age, a few inches shorter, with dark hair that was obviously curly but that had been tamed down with copious amounts of styling product. The man was smiling charmingly and seemed respectable. Kurt could even see a red bow tie peeking out from the man’s wool coat. He looked quite dapper.

“Yes?” Kurt asked.

“Um, I know this really isn’t the way to do this,” the man said nervously. “But I’ve seen both of your shows at least five times each because they’re just so amazing and I really admire your work. So when I saw you coming out of the theater, I thought I should just take a chance.”

Kurt held back at smile at the man’s nervous rambling. “And just what are you taking a chance on?”

“This,” Blaine said and pulled a sheaf of papers from his messenger bag. “It’s… It’s a libretto. Well, it’s an incomplete libretto. I can’t seem to get the dialogue down. And the lyrics… Well, if you read it, you’ll see. I just wondered if maybe you might read it and give me some advice. I know you must be really busy what with two shows running concurrently. I’ll completely understand if you won’t do that. And I know I’m just some stranger who approached you on the street like a creepy stalker. And the fact that I seem to have developed a horrid case of word vomit must be really repulsive—”

Kurt smirked and then held up a hand and interrupted. “I’ll look at it.”

“—must think I’m crazy or something. Wait. Did you just say…?” the man said and a smile flashed across his face. “Wow. Really?”

“Give me the manuscript before I change my mind,” Kurt said lightly. “And make sure your contact information is in there. What’s your name by the way?”

As the man scribbled something on the inside of the first page, he said. “I’m Blaine. Blaine Anderson.” He handed the sheaf over and smiled charmingly at Kurt. “I really, really appreciate this.”

Kurt smiled back to him. “Pleasure to meet you, Blaine-Blaine Anderson.”

And with that, he swept away to the waiting hired car.

BKBKBKBKBK

Kurt didn’t really think that he would actually like the musical. He was prepared to hate it, in fact, but it was good. Blaine had been correct, however; while the story was compelling, the dialogue was not. And the score was possibly better than anything Kurt had ever seen or heard, but the lyrics were uninteresting and did nothing to drive the plot. It would be nearly impossible for an actor to connect to the characters the way they were currently written.

But all of those things were fixable. Without even realizing what he was doing, Kurt picked up a pen and began scribbling better dialogue in the margins. He left the lyrics alone for the time being, but with the changes that Kurt had made with just one scene, he could already see how great this musical could be.

“Daddy!”

Kurt smiled as his son came tearing into the apartment. Brittany, his nanny, was following close behind. She had just picked him up from school.

“Hi Kurtie!” Brittany said in that vacuously sweet way that she had. She wasn’t the brightest girl, and Kurt had had his doubts about hiring her initially, despite their friendship in high school, but she was very sweet and Alex had adored her right off. Now, five years later, he couldn’t imagine trying to raise Alex without her assistance.

Kurt set aside the script and let Alex climb into his lap. “Hi Britt. Hi Alex. How was school today?”

“It was great!” Alex chirped. “Mrs. Dresden said I drew the very best castle of all the kids. And Kelly let me share her cookies at snack time. She's my bestest friend.”

“Well that was very nice of her,” Kurt said. “Did you share your apple slices with her?”

Alex nodded. “And Britt took me to the ice cream shop on the way home.”

“I see,” Kurt said with a smirk. “I guess that’s why you’re so wound up.”

“They had chocolate-chip banana as the flavor of the week,” Britt said sheepishly. Everyone knew of Brittany’s love for the chocolate-chip banana ice cream served at the little shop around the corner from their building.

“It’s fine,” Kurt assured her. “I haven’t begun dinner yet, so he’ll have time to digest. Are you staying tonight? Or is Santana in town?”

Britt smiled happily. “San’s back. She said we could go out to eat and then meet up with some of our friends at the bar.”

“Tell her I said hi,” Kurt said. 

Britt left soon after and Alex went to play in his room for a while, so Kurt set aside his work and went to the kitchen. He loved his home. It wasn’t much different than when he had moved in with Sarah, but it was comfortable and spacious—especially by New York standards—and he couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. It had three bedrooms, a huge living room that opened into the kitchen and dining room. 

His favorite part, however, was his music room cum office. Two walls were lined with shelves that held awards and books and a hundred other items that made the room special. His desk and a couple of comfortable armchairs made the room cozy. And Kurt’s grand piano was in there. It was the perfect space for creating.

As Kurt cooked he thought again of the script he had spent much of his day reading and improving. And he thought about the man who had given it to him. Blaine Anderson. Kurt had taken a few minutes to Google the man and found that he, like Kurt, was a former show choir competitor. Unlike Kurt, he had come from a private all-boys high school. And he’d been a student at Julliard, graduating with honors just a year after Kurt had graduated from Pace. 

In the four and a half years since he graduated, Blaine had been in a few off-off-Broadway productions. Some were musicals and some were straight theater. But the young man hadn’t really found his footing yet. Though all of his reviews were positive, there hadn’t been a role that really made him shine and so he was still unknown.

But his talents weren’t limited to the stage. If his musical score was anything to judge by, the man was truly gifted in composition. His songs were light and catchy, while still maintaining a freshness that wasn’t often found in musical theater. And his ballads were truly spectacular. He could see some of them finding a home on the radio. If he could manage to make the lyrics more sensible. In some, it was as though he was trying entirely too hard to make them sound pompous. In others, the words just didn’t make any sense, as though he was trying to force them to fit the music. And none of them fit the plot.

While he prepared the vegetarian lasagna that Alex loved, Kurt decided to call the kid. Wiping his hands, he went to get the script from his office and dialed on the way back to the kitchen.

“Hello?”

“Blaine Anderson?” Kurt said. “This is Kurt Hummel.”

“Oh my god!” Blaine said in a hushed breath. “You actually called. I mean, I didn’t really think you would read my script. I just thought you were being polite and I’d never hear from you again, but you called.”

Kurt chuckled. “Yeah, I did. You really are going to need to tone down the need to ramble if we’re going to work together on this.”

There was silence over the phone for a long minute. “W-work together? Are you… serious?”

Kurt smiled. He really liked this guy. “Yes. I read through your script and your score. The score is absolutely brilliant, but you were right about the dialogue and lyrics. Those need considerable refinement.”

“Yeah,” Blaine sighed. “I know what’s good, but I just can’t seem to get there.”

“Which is why I’m going to work on this with you,” Kurt said. “And when it’s finished we’re going to find backers to produce it.”

There was more silence. “I’m not sure I’m not just dreaming this.”

Kurt chuckled again. “Just come to my place tomorrow and we can talk about everything. Unless you’re working?”

“No, I…” Blaine sighed. “I don’t actually work. I mean, unless I get cast in a show. Then I work, but the rest of the time, I’m pretty much slothful.”

“Well, that will make working on this easier,” Kurt said. He gave Blaine his address and they set a time to meet, and then Kurt hung up the phone and went back to work on dinner.

BKBKBKBKBK

Kurt answered the door the next morning and found Blaine standing there looking nervous. He had the same wool coat from the other night, along with his messenger bag. He looked even more dapper.

“Come on in,” Kurt said. 

Just as Blaine stepped in and began to remove his coat, exposing a modishly dapper outfit complete with another bow tie, Alex and Britt came into the room.

“Daddy!” Alex said excitedly as he threw himself into Kurt’s arms. “Britt’s taking me to the zoo before school. And we’re gonna have lunch with the monkeys.”

“I heard,” Kurt said and hugged his boy tightly to his chest. “I bet you’re going to have lots of fun.”

“Loads and loads,” Alex said as he slid from Kurt’s arms back to the floor. He seemed to notice Blaine for the first time. “Who are you?”

“I’m Blaine,” Blaine said with a smile.

Alex looked at him warily. “Why are you here?”

“He’s here to do some work with me,” Kurt said. “And Alex, you are being rude.”

Alex’s bottom lip protruded in a pout, but he quietly said, “Sorry.”

“That’s better,” Kurt said and then squatted down to give Alex another hug. “Go have fun with Britt and I’ll see you after school, okay?”

Alex’s face brightened again. “Yay! The zoo!”

“I love the zoo,” Britt said as she helped Alex put on his coat. She turned to Blaine. “Are you a dolphin?”

“Um…” Blaine looked helplessly at Kurt.

“Britt,” Kurt said. “That’s not really the kind of question we ask someone the first time we meet them.”

Britt shrugged. “Okay. Bye!”

“Bye Daddy!” Alex said as he took Britt’s hand and followed her out the door. Before Kurt could close the door behind them, he heard Alex ask, “Are there dolphins at the zoo?”

With a smile and a small shake of his head, Kurt turned to Blaine. “Sorry about that.”

“What exactly was she talking about?” Blaine wondered.

Kurt shook his head again, the amused smile still in place. “It’s a very long and confusing story. And you probably don’t want to know, anyway. Britt is great with Alex, but she’s a little… special. She has a very unusual view of the world.”

“So that was your son,” Blaine said after a moment. “He’s very cute.”

“He got the best of his mom and me,” Kurt said. It was pretty common knowledge that Kurt had written his first show based on his relationship with his best friend. And that his son was a result of that friendship. He had been pretty open on the subject with any interviewers after the first musical was a success. “Come on, let’s go to my office and we can discuss the script.”

Blaine glanced around the beautifully decorated apartment as they went down the hall. “This is a great place.”

“It was Sarah’s,” Kurt said. Talking about her didn’t hurt the way it once had. “She left it to me when she died. She came from a wealthy family but didn’t fit their mold, so she was pretty much alone in the world. But she had a trust fund and this apartment and a love of life that couldn’t be contained. She was like sunshine on a cloudy day.”

Blaine was blown away by the grand piano in the music room and went directly there. “Oh wow! I haven’t played on anything this nice since my last recital at Julliard.”

“It was a gift from Sarah,” Kurt said. It had been his incentive for completing his rehab. In the days after the accident, he had been close to succumbing to depression. His dreams of being a star on Broadway were dashed and he hurt all the time. But Sarah had said that the music was worth sticking around for. So she bought the piano and had only let Kurt play after he had done his daily exercises. But when he did play, it had been a balm to his soul.

Blaine lifted the lid off the keys and played a few chords. “It’s magnificent. Do you mind?”

“Go right ahead,” Kurt said and let Blaine play for a few minutes. He started with Chopin and then slid into one of the numbers from his musical and then finally some jazzy piece that Kurt didn’t recognize. “You play exceptionally well. I’ll be honest; your musical score is what really caught my attention. The story is good, but there are plenty of good stories out there. It was the music that really sets this work apart.”

Blaine grinned. “Thanks.”

After that, they sat down and began going through the musical scene by scene. Kurt could tell that Blaine was very receptive to the ideas that he had for dialogue and characterization. Now that they were actually working, Blaine was a little less flustered and proved to be quite charming and intelligent. 

They broke for lunch a few hours later and Blaine followed Kurt to the kitchen, taking a seat at the counter while Kurt put together some sandwiches.

“So, if you don’t work, how do you support yourself?” Kurt asked as he cut the two sandwiches and placed them on plates along with an assortment of fresh vegetables and a dill-yogurt dip that Kurt had made the day before.

“The term my father uses is independently wealthy,” Blaine said. “I just say I’m lucky. My grandfather left me some money. Not a fortune, but enough to pursue my dreams without having to work as a waiter between auditions.”

“I did a little research on you,” Kurt admitted as he passed over Blaine’s plate and then took the seat beside him. “You’ve done quite a few shows since you graduated. And all of them were very well received.”

Blaine nodded. “I love the stage. I just haven’t found the right role yet.”

“So you wrote the perfect role?” Kurt wondered.

Blaine shrugged. “If it works out that way, great, but I’m more interested in seeing the show finished.”

“You’re a lot more laid back about this than I would have been in your place,” Kurt admitted. “I would have killed for a role like this before.”

“Before the accident?” Blaine asked. “I didn’t realize that…”

Kurt shrugged. “Most people assume that since I’ve been successful as a writer and producer that it’s what I always wanted. I got my start in show choir and fell in love with performing. But after the accident, that wasn’t possible anymore. My voice… well, let’s just say, my singing voice isn’t what it used to be. And dancing with a bum leg isn’t exactly entertaining for anyone.”

“You could have done straight theater,” Blaine said. 

Kurt chuckled. “No, I was and am in love with the music. So I found another way to be a part of it all. Writing Through the Darkness was healing for me in more ways than one.”

“I can see that,” Blaine said. “It’s a very cathartic story. Every time I see it, I feel like I’m living it with the actors. Part of that is great casting, but a bigger part of that is the story and the characters and the music. It all just draws me in.”

“Thank you,” Kurt said. He was genuinely pleased by the praise. It wasn’t the first time he had heard the sentiment, but it was the first time he had heard it from someone who seemed so sincere.

“Maybe it’s because I can relate so closely to Sally,” Blaine said. He knew that Sally was based on Sarah, but he didn’t want to make that direct a connection for fear that it would somehow offend Kurt. “I mean, my family is a lot like hers. Only they shunned me because I was gay. Well, shun is probably too harsh a term. They sent me to boarding school supposedly for my safety, but they…” He let that thought trail off and shook his head to clear his thoughts. 

“When I was younger, they doted on me.” Blaine took a long drink of water before continuing. “After I came out, they never openly said anything hostile, but they just sort of shut down. And when I was at Dalton, I only ever saw them for the holidays. And then it was like I was a guest living in their home. So I stopped going home for summer vacations and then once I was in college, I stopped going home at all. I get an obligatory call for my birthday and Christmas and that’s pretty much the extent of my relationship with my family.”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt said.

Blaine shook his head and smiled ruefully. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dump all that on you. Anyway, it’s true what they say: money can’t buy you happiness.”

“This is true,” Kurt said. “After Sarah died and I learned that she had left me everything, I just kept thinking how poor a substitute it was for having her there. But, that money is what enabled me to raise Alex and have time to write my first musical and then produce it.”

“And money allows me to follow my dreams,” Blaine agreed. 

BKBKBKBKBK

The two men worked for a few more hours on the script. In fact, time seemed to slip away from them. They were once again discussing the lyrics of the song that closes the first act when Britt and Alex came back.


	18. Marriage Broker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt goes to a marriage broker and marries, Blaine, a man he barely knows.

Kurt looked around the ballroom and sighed. It wasn't supposed to be like this. His wedding day was supposed to be the best day of his life. He was supposed to be surrounded by friends and family. He was supposed to have spent months planning every detail. He was supposed to be marrying the man of his dreams.

Instead, the wedding had been planned by a hired professional and all decisions had been made by his new mother-in-law. His only friend thought he was insane for even contemplating going through with this crazy marriage plan and had refused to attend. His family, or rather his father, was gone, died when he was still in high school from a heart attack. Kurt had gone to stay with his aunt after that, his only living relative willing to take in a gay teen, losing contact with all but one of his friends from Lima.

Kurt looked across the crowded New York ballroom and sighed. His husband was over there making polite small talk to their guests. Kurt knew no one in attendance, not even his husband. The man who had stood up as Kurt's best man was actually a friend of his new husband. The guests were mostly business colleagues of his new in-laws, political contacts, and various people of importance from among the New York elite. 

Kurt sipped his glass of expensive champagne and considered how exactly he had managed to get where he was.

It started with his father's death, that much he knew for sure. Within a two week period, he had been told that his father had suffered a heart attack, watched him linger in a coma for days, sat by his side when he died, planned a funeral, and then been shipped off to live with an aunt who he didn't even remember ever meeting before that. 

Aunt Janice was his late mother's much younger sister and she was nice enough. She tried to be supportive for the grieving young man who was basically dumped on her doorstep. But she was a stereotypical flighty artistic soul. She owned a flower shop in Harrisburg Pennsylvania and painted in her free time. Sometimes she would disappear without word for days at a time, and then return with tales of her adventures that almost always included a man and some form of psychotropic drugs. Financially, they barely kept their heads above water. Emotionally, the instability of his new home life simply caused Kurt to further withdraw from the world. He appreciated the fact that his aunt took him in, but he never allowed himself to get close to her. 

When he graduated from high school, Kurt packed up his meager possessions and headed off to New York. He didn't have a lot of money, but he had enough to get through college. His father's life insurance paid the medical bills and for his funeral, but there was a quite a bit left over. Kurt added that to his college savings, along with the money he got from selling the garage and the house in Lima and he had enough to pay for college and still have some money left over.

Kurt spent four years attending NYU, getting a degree in business. It wasn't his dream. His dream was to one day become a Broadway star or to start his own fashion line. But he had learned the hard way that dreams don't come true for him. So he had gone into something more practical, something more attainable. 

After graduation, Kurt had opened his own flower shop in Manhattan. In a city where people could buy bunches of half-decayed flowers at every corner bodega, he needed something to make him really stand out from the competition, and so he had begun marketing his shop as the only shop in the city to use the old Victorian art of floriography. It was a romantic notion that Kurt had learned thanks to his aunt, and one which seemed to appeal to many brides and others with romance in their hearts, and the business took off.

It took a couple years of hard work, but eventually, he felt like he could really be proud of what he had accomplished. 

Puck, the one friend from Lima that Kurt had maintained contact with through the years--mostly due to the fact that Puck was just too damn stubborn and pigheaded to take a hint and go away--had moved to the city about half way through Kurt's junior year at NYU. He said it was because the people in Ohio couldn't appreciate his bad-ass-ness, but Kurt sometimes wondered if it was because Puck worried about him. Puck was the only person who ever did seem to worry about him.

Kurt, still grieving for his father when he arrived in New York, had thrown himself into school with obsessive focus. He hadn't allowed parties or men or anything else to get in his way. He might not be going for his dream, but that didn't mean he couldn't succeed. But Puck, when he arrived on the scene--camping out uninvited on Kurt's sofa for two years, until they had moved into the apartment above Kurt's shop which had two bedrooms--had forced Kurt to go out and relax occasionally. He badgered Kurt into dating. He blackmailed him into going to bars where he could meet guys. He cajoled Kurt into taking a break from his strict study and work schedule. 

Kurt lost his virginity to a guy that Puck had set him up with. 

Even so, Kurt was still reluctant to open his heart to anyone. Puck might have gotten him to loosen up about sex and made him see the merits in taking time to relax and have fun on occasion, but Kurt was still guarding his heart very carefully. It wasn't just his dreams of a career that had been shoved into the attic of his mind. His dreams of love and romance went with those dreams. Love meant loss. 

And yet there was one dream that Kurt couldn't shove into the recesses of his mind. He desperately wanted a family. He was a carrier, a fact that he had shared with few people in his life. He had always dreamed that one day he would fall in love, get married and have children. Just because the dream of love had died didn't mean that he didn't still imagine what it would be like to have a child. It was almost an ache inside of him, one that no amount of work or avoidance would make go away.

Once the business was making a steady income, Kurt considered going to a sperm bank and going the whole single-father route. After all, his father had been a great single dad. But in the end, he felt like a child deserved two parents, and how would ever explain to a child how they were conceived? No, if he wanted a family, he would have to have a husband first.

So, without ever telling Puck what he was planning, Kurt went to a marriage broker.

Marriage brokers weren't very common. The idea of arranged marriage was abhorrent to most people in today's society. To a seventeen year old Kurt Hummel, the idea would have seemed completely horrific. But to 25 year old Kurt, who had seen so much and experience so much pain, the idea appealed. 

Arranged marriages were usually brokered for monetary gain or political power or for business connections. For Kurt, it was all about having a family. When he said so to Marlena, she had laughed and said no one would trust those motives. So Kurt had followed her advice and considered what else he could ask for from a marriage contract. He decided to opt for the money to open a second store. It was something he had been considering since Language of Flowers had started to really take off. He knew that it was something he could do on his own in a few years, but it seemed like Marlena liked the idea, so he went with it.

Marlena sat down to talk with Kurt a dozen times over the course of a month. They met in various locations--she said it was to gain an understanding of how Kurt behaved in different circumstances--and she asked him more questions than he was truly comfortable answering. He also filled out forms and questionnaires. There was a physical to prove his carrier status and good health. There were background checks. Before long, Kurt felt like Marlena knew more about him than anyone.

Then, about two months after their first meeting, Marlena called him with a potential match. "He's 24 and needs to get married to fulfill an inheritance requirement. He will be quite wealthy very soon. His family is willing to offer a substantial dowry to the right person. They aren't very happy that he's gay, but they have agreed that it will legally fulfill the requirements of the will and are willing to support his choice. They only insist on one point: that he marries a carrier, so that there will be heirs."

Kurt took a deep breath. "It's all sounds so..."

Marlena laughed. "That's what some of the families with old money are like, Kurt. But I've talked with Blaine extensively. As extensively as I talk with all of my clients. I think you two could make a good match. You fulfill the family requirements. You also fulfill Blaine's personal requirements. And I think he could fulfill yours as well. Not that you will ever tell me what they are."

"I just want somebody who could be a good father," Kurt said quietly.

"Well, Blaine loves kids," Marlena said. "Against his parents’ wishes, he decided not to go into the family business. Instead, he teaches music at a private elementary school here in the city. Read the file I emailed to you. If you think you could work, then I'll arrange a meeting."

So Kurt had read the file and looked at the pictures of Blaine Anderson, second son of Bill and Gloria Anderson. He had read about how the family was from Ohio, just outside of Columbus, and owned the largest investment brokerage in the state. How Blaine had been bullied and ended up in a private boarding school for his protection. How Blaine had gone to Columbia, but rather than getting a business degree, had opted to get a degree in music education. How he now spent his days teaching music to children and two evenings a week playing piano at a piano bar.

Everything Kurt read led him to believe that there had to be some sort of mistake. A man like this didn't need a marriage broker. Half the gay men in the city would throw themselves at his feet. He was young, handsome and rich. But Marlena was right: he would likely make a wonderful father. 

So Kurt had agreed to the meeting. He had expected Marlena to be there, but he hadn't expected Bill and Gloria Anderson to be in attendance. He really hadn't expected that they would monopolize the conversation as they grilled him on his background--especially since Kurt knew for a fact that they had received a file on him, just like the file he had received about Blaine.

"He has potential," Gloria told Blaine rather condescendingly as the meeting broke up, intentionally loud enough for Kurt to hear. Kurt wanted to smack her. Blaine, on the other hand, looked resigned and slightly apologetic for his mother's words and behavior. It was that look that decided things for Kurt. When Blaine's parents requested a second meeting to discuss the details of the marriage contract, Kurt agreed.

Somehow, things seemed to snowball after that. Before long, Kurt was signing the contract and prenuptial agreement. Then Gloria was asking for his list of invitees--of course, somehow Kurt's employees' invitations all got lost in the mail--and telling him when to show for his tuxedo fitting. The only thing Kurt insisted upon was that he was going to do the flowers for his own wedding. Nothing on earth was going to stop him from using the event as an opportunity to market his business. Besides, he knew that he put together the best floral arrangements in the city, if not the state.

Less than three months after the contract was signed, they were married. 

The one regret that Kurt had, looking back, was that he hadn't tried harder to get to know Blaine outside of the meetings with Gloria and the wedding planner. They had exchanged few words and Kurt suddenly realized that he had married a complete stranger.

"It's not too late to back out," a familiar voice said.

Kurt turned to find Puck standing there wearing the suit Kurt had set out for him just in case he changed his mind. "Puck! What are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming."

Puck shrugged. "I wasn't. But then... I couldn't let you do this by yourself. I may not agree with your choice, but I'm gonna support you. So I came. Snuck in the back of the church just after the ceremony started. I should have been up there with you. I'm sorry."

Kurt hugged his friend. "I'm just glad you're here now."

"Me too," Puck said and then punched Kurt in the arm. "Dude. I still can't believe that you agreed to get married in a church."

"Tradition, young man. Andersons always get married in the church," Kurt said in a fair imitation of his mother-in-law. Then he shrugged. "It seemed like too much trouble to argue about it."

"So, where is he?" Puck asked as he looked around the crowded room.

Kurt pointed to where Blaine was now speaking animatedly with Jeff, the friend who had stood in for Kurt's best man. Blaine actually looked more alive than Kurt had ever seen him. Most of the time they were together, Blaine simply watched Kurt and let Gloria do all of the talking.

"Shouldn't you be, I don't know, dancing with him or something?" Puck asked.

"Soon," Kurt said. 

"Don't sound so overjoyed," Puck said dryly. "I stand by my earlier statement: it's not too late to get this thing annulled."

"I'm not getting it annulled," Kurt snapped but was instantly contrite. "Sorry. I just... this is my chance to have a family."

Puck slung his arm around Kurt's shoulder. "I get it dude. Losing your mom and then your dad really fucked you up. You're scared to let anyone close enough to cause that kind of hurt again. But a loveless marriage... Is that really the kind of family you want your kids to have?"

Kurt sighed. "As... uptight as my new in-laws seem to be, they obviously really love their son. They didn't disown him when he came out. They didn't shun him for choosing to be a teacher instead of going into the family business. And Blaine adores kids or he wouldn't have chosen to be a teacher. There might not be a lot of love between me and Blaine, but I know that my kids will be loved no matter what. And they'll be protected."

"Okay, dude," Puck said quietly. "Like I said: I may not agree, but you’ll always be my boy."

"Thank you," Kurt said quietly. He looked across the room and caught Blaine's eye. "I think you were right. It's about time I danced with my husband."

BKBKBKBKBK

Blaine wasn't sure what it was about Kurt Hummel that had made him agree to the arranged marriage. In all honesty, Blaine had been dead set against the entire thing until his mother sent him a picture of Kurt. He was just one of several candidates that his parents were considering. But Blaine had seen that photo of Kurt and had immediately called his mother to okay the first meeting.

Blaine didn't want an arranged marriage. He didn't care about money or material things. He hadn't spent a dime of his family's money since he had graduated from college and had no intention of ever using that money. So when his parents came to Blaine with the insane idea that they should use a marriage broker to find him a spouse, Blaine had flat out refused. Of course, that didn't stop his mother from browbeating him into meeting with Marlena. But he had always intended to refuse any matches until he saw Kurt.

From the very first meeting, Blaine was entranced by Kurt. The way he had stood up to his mother and father’s intrusive questioning, the way he had deflected and manipulated the conversation without them even realizing he was doing so, made Blaine admire him. The fact that Kurt was a self-made man, succeeding in his chosen career despite the hardships of his life, was inspiring. The fact that Kurt stood proud of who he was and where he had come from spoke to Blaine in a way that good looks and a great fashion sense never would (though Kurt had both of those things in spades as well). 

But all of those positive things about Kurt were weighted against one very negative thing: he wanted to marry Blaine for financial gain. Marriage shouldn't be treated like a business transaction. Marriage should be about love and romance, not dollar signs and bottom lines. Blaine simply couldn't reconcile all the positives with that single, substantial, negative. And yet... 

After the first meeting, Blaine agreed to the second. He wanted to know more about this contradictory person. And somehow, those meetings ended up with him agreeing to the marriage. He still wasn't quite sure how it happened. All he really wanted was to get to know Kurt. But even after they agreed to the marriage, he never really had the opportunity to be alone with his fiancé. He never really got a chance to talk to Kurt or ask him any of the thousands of questions that ran through his mind. Somehow, he ended up married to a man he hardly knew at all.

Across the slowly emptying ballroom, Blaine saw Kurt laughing and dancing with his roommate. He was the only person from Kurt’s very short guest list that had actually attended the wedding and Blaine wondered at the lack of friends or family. He knew from reading Kurt’s file that his mother had died when he was young and that his father had raised him, only to died when Kurt was 17. But there were relatives and an aunt who had taken him in after Burt Hummel’s untimely death. Where were they? Where were his friends?

Well, the reception was almost over. The cake had been cut. They had danced their first dance. There had been toasts, most of which were rather awkward and one-sided since no one knew Kurt. As Blaine looked around the room at the uninspiring band, the same uninteresting menu that was served at every tedious charity gala and wedding that Blaine had ever attended, and the elegant but dull décor, Blaine wondered momentarily what Kurt could have done if he had been given free rein instead of being delegated to the background. The only bright and stylish thing about their entire wedding had been the flowers that Kurt had arranged.

“What do they mean?” Blaine had asked Kurt earlier when they were eating dinner. The centerpieces were nothing like Blaine had seen before. Rather than a vase or whatever with the flowers arranged inside, most of the flowers and greenery looked like they were climbing the outside of a tall crystal urn which was filled with pink, white and purple hyacinth. It was absolutely breathtaking.

Kurt had looked up at the towering centerpiece and smiled. “The almond flower represents hope. The little blue flowers are borage and they mean courage. I used basil, lemon grass and ivy for the greenery because basil means best wishes and because it smells so good, lemon grass is for homosexual love, and ivy represents friendship and marriage. The hollyhock is for fruitfulness and the hyacinth and orchids are for fertility.” Kurt said the last in a slight rush with a light blush on his cheeks, before continuing. “The flax is for domesticity. And the clematis represents artifice.”

Blaine had chuckled. “Had to get the artifice in there huh?”

Kurt had given him a small smile. “It seemed appropriate.”

Blaine knew for a fact that his mother was not happy that Kurt had refused to use white roses in the arrangements. Gloria was all about making everything meet the expectations of her friends and they expected white roses at a wedding, apparently. It would never have occurred to her that there might be reasons for Kurt to not want white roses. It never would have occurred to her that Kurt could make something so beautiful from flowers that Blaine was sure she considered little more than weeds. Well, except for the orchids.

Blaine shook off thoughts of his mother. Her part was over. She and his father were finally flying back to Ohio tomorrow morning and Blaine wouldn’t have to see them again until the obligatory Christmas Eve party they threw every year. Four months with only a few phone calls each month. He could live with that.

But now that his mother and the wedding were out of the way, Blaine wasn’t sure how to proceed. He was married to a man he barely knew. 

Well, he was learning more about Kurt all the time. His choice of flowers spoke volumes. Blaine recalled the things he had said they meant: hope, courage, friendship, domesticity, artifice, and fertility. Blaine hadn’t said so at the time, but he had been shocked to find out that three of the flowers were basically for fertility. It seemed that was an important point for Kurt, which sort of surprised Blaine. He was also surprised that none of the flowers were for prosperity. For a man who had evidently gotten married for money, it seemed like a peculiar oversight.

Shaking off the thought, Blaine made his way over to his husband. It was time for them to start saying their goodbyes.

BKBKBKBKBK

The hired car, a silver Bentley with flowers adorning the windows and a driver in full chauffeur garb, was waiting for the couple when they exited the hotel. There were people all around them to see them off, tossing rose petals—the only roses that Kurt would allow—over the departing couple. Blaine was hugged by Jeff and Nick and Wes and David. Kurt was hugged by Puck. And then they were driving away.

They were both silent as they headed for the hotel that Gloria had booked for them for the evening. They had decided that they weren’t going to take a honeymoon right away. Blaine had school starting back up in a week and Kurt said that getting away for very long would be hard until his new manager was more familiar with the way Kurt did things. So they were going to spend a few days in a hotel, while movers packed up their respective homes and moved them into their new apartment.

The apartment was a wedding gift from Blaine’s parents. They had done the same for Cooper out in LA when he had gotten married. (No one mentioned that the only reason Cooper had actually finally gotten married was because he got the poor girl pregnant.) Thankfully, Blaine’s parents hadn’t been nearly as involved with the selection of the apartment as they had with the wedding. They had simply given a budget to the realtor, and left Kurt and Blaine to work it out. Because of their schedules, what that meant was that Blaine did most of the looking and emailed pictures and floor plans to Kurt. Then, when Kurt had a few hours free, he checked out Blaine’s favorites. He texted Blaine back with his choice. Once the purchase was finalized, Blaine hired a decorator and told her to decorate it however Kurt wanted. Kurt, of course, insisted on sending Blaine pictures of color boards and asking his opinions. But again, most of that was done by email and text.

They arrived at the hotel and Blaine led the way to the check-in desk. It only took a moment to register and get their room keys. Their luggage had been delivered earlier in the day and was already in their suite.

“So…” Kurt finally said once Blaine had closed the door to the suite behind them. “Nice place.”

It was. The suite actually had a large sitting room complete with French colonial furniture, a grand piano and a balcony with a view of Central Park. The bedroom was just as opulent and the bathroom looked more like a spa than a bathroom. Everything was a little too formal for Blaine’s tastes, but he could live with it for a few days. Thankfully, Kurt’s choices for their home had been a lot more casual and contemporary, much along Blaine’s own tastes.

“Yeah,” Blaine said. “It’s a little over the top.”

Kurt chuckled at that. “Definitely.”

Blaine took off his tuxedo jacket and went to the kitchenette. “Would you like something to drink? Or eat? We could order in dinner.”

“I ate more than enough at the reception,” Kurt said as he followed Blaine’s lead and removed his jacket. “But water would be nice.”

Blaine grabbed two bottles and returned to sit with Kurt on the sofa. “So…”

Kurt arched a brow and chuckled again. “This isn’t at all awkward.”

Blaine leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. “This is so not how I envisioned my wedding night.”

“Me neither,” Kurt admitted quietly. “Then again, the wedding was nothing like I would have planned, either.”

Blaine sat up and looked at Kurt. “What would you have planned?”

“This time of year?” Kurt asked. “Well, I would have probably opted for an outdoor ceremony, to start with. I definitely wouldn’t have had the ceremony in a church.”

Blaine sighed. “Battery Park would have been nice, with the breeze from the harbor.”

“Or Ellis Island,” Kurt said. “If you overlook the tragic history of the place, it’s really quite beautiful there.”

“What else would you change?” Blaine asked.

“Everything?” Kurt said. “I would have chosen tuxedos with a bit more flair, and a band with a bit more personality. I would have completely changed the menu. How boring is surf and turf? A nice roasted lamb or braised pork for the red meat and trout almandine for the seafood option. And the cake was so bland. I would have opted for a more substantial cake soaked with champagne syrup and layered with strawberry preserves, covered in buttercream frosting.”

Blaine mocked shock. “What? No fondant? How scandalous!”

Kurt grinned. “It may not look as tidy, but I still prefer the flavor of actual frosting over sugary paste. Besides, you can do a lot with edible flowers to dress up a cake like that. I would use crystalized violas and pansies and maybe a few snapdragons. It would be fitting for the more casual outdoor wedding.”

“Where would you have the reception?” Blaine asked.

Kurt smiled. “Most likely in a tent right near where the ceremony was held. And the band would have to be a lot more interesting. There are so many great up-and-coming groups in this city that would be happy for the gig, and play some of the old favorites, as well as some contemporary songs and maybe even some original songs with a lot more energy than those forty-something guys that your mom hired to play greatest easy listening hits of the seventies. They didn’t even know who Lady Gaga is; I asked.”

Blaine laughed out loud then. “I asked about Katy Perry. They didn’t know her either.”

“And the decorations…” Kurt sighed. “I think for our perfect outdoor wedding, I would go a little more rustic-chic. A mix of repurposed and new. Rather than those monstrous urns I used for the flowers, I would go with a simple wild-flower bouquet in glass pitchers I would have found in local thrift stores. And burlap place mats and candles in mason jars. But mix those rustic items with sleek silver and black dishware, black glassware, chrome chargers.”

“Where would it be if it was winter?” Blaine asked.

“The Roseland Ballroom,” Kurt said immediately. “And we could have the ceremony right there on the dance floor. Of course, then the flowers and décor would have to change to fit the setting and the season. I’m thinking shades of crimson, gold and cranberry.”

“Sound’s perfect,” Blaine said, picturing the place settings in his mind. “Why didn’t you put up more of a fight? We could have had a great party.”

Kurt arched his brow. “Why didn’t you?”

Blaine slumped back in his seat and sighed. “I… I guess I thought that by not participating, I was registering my protest to the whole thing.”

“Then why do it at all?” Kurt asked with confusion. 

Blaine sighed again. “I… I don’t know? Why did you do it?”

Kurt bit his lip. “Money?”

“You don’t sound sure of that,” Blaine said dryly.

It was Kurt’s turn to sigh. “Okay fine. I’ll tell you, but then you have to explain your reasons. Your real reasons, because I know you have to have them. You’re too handsome and… dapper to need anyone to hook you up. So quid pro quo.”

“I guess that’s fair,” Blaine said with a nod.

“Okay,” Kurt said before taking a deep breath. “I want a family. I lost my mom when I was young, and then I lost my dad, too. Then I had to move in with my aunt and I lost all my friends all at once. And I’ve never really been all that good at making friends. So when I left Harrisburg for New York, I just sort of concentrated on school and then making my business grow. But… but deep down, all I really want is a family.”

“God, Kurt,” Blaine said, his voice filled with sympathy.

Kurt shook off the sympathy. “It’s fine. I’ve made my choices and have survived some horrible stuff, but the point is, I survived. And now I’m here. But, like I said, I’m not good with meting people, so I went to Marlena. She said that people wouldn’t trust anyone who just wanted a family, so she suggested I ask for money. So I did. That’s my story. What about you?”

Blaine blushed and began playing with the cap from his water bottle. “I, um, went along with the marriage broker to get my parents off my back. I never intended to go through with it. I don’t really care all that much about money.”

“What changed your mind?” Kurt wondered.

“You,” Blaine said, looking shyly up at Kurt from beneath his lashes. “I saw your picture, and then I met you… and everything I learned about you told me that the money-grubbing wasn’t really who you were. I mean, if it was, why open a flower shop? You could have gone to work on Wall Street or something. But no, you chose to do something that would bring beauty into people’s lives. I just wanted to know more about you. But we never really had the time or opportunity to get to know each other, and suddenly we were getting married, and I still don’t know you. 

“I mean, I know things about you,” Blaine continued. “I know you have impeccable fashion sense and can design flower arrangements that take my breath away. I know we share similar minimalist decorating taste. I know all the dry facts that Marlena shared in her report. But I don’t know you.”

“I have a proposal to make,” Kurt said thoughtfully. “Since we have the next three days with nothing planned and nowhere to be, why don’t we use this time to just get to know each other? No pressure. No parents. Nothing but you and me. Because I’d really like to get to know you too.”  “Sounds good,” Blaine said.

They talked a little about some of the things they might like to do while they were getting to know each other, but it wasn’t long before the long stressful day caught up with them and Blaine mentioned heading for bed. And that’s when it hit them both. There was only one bed in that ridiculously opulent suite.

“I could sleep out here,” Blaine offered.

But Kurt shook his head. “Don’t be silly. This sofa is definitely not made for sleeping. Besides, we’re married. We’re going to be sharing a bed every night for the rest of our lives. There’s no reason we shouldn’t start now.”

They took turns getting ready for bed in the bathroom. They might be sharing a bed, but neither of them was ready to actually change clothes in front of the other. Blaine was the first ready and he settled into the bed, sitting up with his back against the headboard. He considered looking for something to read, but settled for playing Flow on his phone until Kurt emerged. (It took 37 minutes, not that Blaine was counting.)

When Kurt appeared, he was wearing midnight blue silk pajamas and his hair was carefully combed and devoid of styling products. His skin was flush from being washed and moisturized. In all, he looked a decade younger, but oh so adorable. Blaine’s voice caught in his throat.

Kurt smiled shyly at his husband and walked over to the empty side of the bed that had been turned down by maid service. Every movement seemed to be both carefully calculated as well as effortlessly graceful. Blaine watched as Kurt settled in, plugging his phone in and then curling up under the sinfully expensive sheets.

“Goodnight,” Kurt said as he lay down.

“G-goodnight,” Blaine said around the lump in his throat.

Blaine didn’t move until Kurt turned off his bedside light and then he realized that he should probably lie down as well. Blaine quickly plugged his phone in and clicked off the lamp. The room was shrouded in darkness as Blaine lay stiffly in bed beside his new husband. The only sound in the room was Kurt’s breaths and the occasional rustle of the sheets.

“Blaine?” Kurt asked quietly after about five minutes. His voice was sleepy.

“Yeah?” Blaine asked, feeling a lot more alert than Kurt apparently was.

“I’m glad it was you,” Kurt said. “I think we’ll be a great family together.”

Blaine smiled widely in the darkness. “I’m glad it was you, too.”

BKBKBKBKBK

Kurt had lived in New York for more than seven years and had never really done many of the touristy things. Sure, he’d been to as many Broadway shows as he could afford, had rushed tickets on a regular basis, and spent more time than was probably healthy or natural scouring for bargains in both the top designer stores on 5th Avenue and consignment shops alike. But he’d never been to the top of the Empire State Building. He’d never wandered the streets of Chinatown. He’d never been to South Street Seaport. He’d never taken a carriage ride through Central Park. He’d never fed the pigeons in Bryant Park. He’d never even been to a Yankees game.

Over the next three days, Blaine set about changing all of that. They saw everything that Blaine thought was a crime that Kurt had missed. And when they were done with that, Kurt took Blaine to some of his favorite places, like the little bistro hidden on a side street near the theater district that served the absolute best corned beef sandwiches, or the consignment shop around the corner from Kurt’s shop where he always found the best vintage fashion pieces.

And while they spent their days traversing New York, they talked. Finally.

“So Puck is the only friend from your old school you kept in touch with?” Blaine asked as they strolled through the Central Park Zoo.

Kurt shrugged. “More like he refused to let me disappear. It’s funny, because we were never close when I was living in Lima. I mean, we were on the same team, but we weren’t close. Then he was in juvie when my dad died and I was gone before he got back. But he somehow got my aunt’s number and he kept calling and bugging her for weeks until I agreed to talk to him. After that, it seemed easier to just accept his calls.

“He apologized for being a jerk to me before,” Kurt said. “And he told me about what was going on with my old friends. They never knew he was keeping in touch with me. I didn’t ask him to keep it to himself, but he did. And then after he graduated, he worked for a while trying to make his pool cleaning business take off, but it was too hard for a small town like Lima where there’s only a couple months a year warm enough for swimming. So he decided to move to New York and just showed up on my door one day.

“Thankfully, I wasn’t living in the dorms by then. He slept on my sofa for six months while he went through fireman’s training.” Kurt smiled recalling those days. “It was not an ideal situation. I lived in this tiny little one bedroom place in Brooklyn. We were always in each other’s way. I think we fought nearly constantly. But I never once considered asking him to leave. He was my only friend. And he’s fun. He made me get out and have a good time. I’d never gone to a club until he made me. I didn’t date until he started setting me up—without my knowledge or consent, mind you.”

“Sounds like a good friend,” Blaine said with a chuckle.

“He was,” Kurt agreed. “He is.”

“Is he keeping the apartment?” Blaine wondered.

Kurt shook his head. “He works out of a fire station up near Columbia. He’s going to find a place in his district. He says that it’s to cut his commute, but I don’t think he wants to live there without me. Puck may look like a big tough badass, but he’s got a really soft heart.”

Blaine wasn’t sure how to respond to that. On the one hand, he felt like he should apologize for breaking up their situation. On the other, it had been Kurt’s choice. 

“He refused to be my best man,” Kurt said quietly as he walked over to lean against the wall overlooking the lions. “He said he couldn’t get behind me doing something so stupid. He wasn’t going to even come to the wedding.”

“I’m glad he changed his mind,” Blaine said. “I really hope he feels free to come over whenever he wants. I’d like to get to know him.”

Kurt chuckled. “Don’t worry, before long, you’ll be sick of seeing him. Puck has boundary issues. He’ll be over as much as we let him and then some. What about your friends? There were a lot at the wedding.”

“Most of them aren’t in New York,” Blaine said. “My closest friends are the ones I made in boarding school. At Dalton, all we had was each other, so we got really close. We stayed close through college and keep in touch still. But they aren’t around very often. Wes is working for his father in Cincinnati. David just passed the bar and is working for his father’s law firm in Chicago. Nick and Jeff are both in DC, working as interns for Congressman Canfield. We all try to get together at least once a year, though, and relive our Warbler days.”

“Wait, Dalton Warblers?” Kurt asked. “I think we were supposed to compete against you at sectionals the year I left.”

“You were in the New Directions?” Blaine asked and Kurt nodded. “We tied at sectionals that year and lost to your friends at regionals. That’s why I recognized Puck. He used to have a Mohawk, right?”

“He did,” Kurt said with a grin. “I can’t believe we almost competed against each other back then.”

“It’s funny,” Blaine said. “If we had met back then, I think I would have definitely tried to get your number.”

Kurt laughs at that. “Somehow I doubt that. I was so scrawny back then. And I hadn’t completely grown into my magnificent fashion sense.”

“I think I still would have seen just how amazing you were,” Blaine said. “Not that you would have been interested in me. I was such a prep-school dork back then. I used way too much hair gel and wore my school uniform all the time. Plus, I was totally a solo-hog.”

Kurt guffawed as he led the way to the next pen. “You were Rachel Berry!”

“What? Who?” Blaine asked with a confused frown. 

“Rachel Berry was the diva of New Directions,” Kurt explained. “She had to have all the solos and had no qualms about stabbing her friends in the back to get them. She had the worst fashion sense in the history of everything. She wore sweaters with kittens on them. She was never happy unless the spotlight was on her.”

“I think I’m offended,” Blaine said. “First of all, my fashion sense might have been a little stunted because I was surrounded by boys in blazers all day every day, but I would never wear anything as bad as animal sweaters. Second, I may have enjoyed the spotlight, but I wasn’t willing to hurt my friends for them. In fact, I never even really asked for them. The Warblers just kind of… gave them to me.”

Kurt looked slyly over at his husband. “I guess I can see that. You do have this charm and charisma that makes people want to do things to make you smile.”

“Does that include you?” Blaine asked flirtatiously.

“Perhaps,” Kurt said.

Blaine leaned close and in a seductively low voice whispered, “I want… ice cream.”

Kurt laughed. “Of course you do. I think I saw a cart up ahead.”

BKBKBKBKBK

An hour later, they had made their way out of the zoo and were headed for Strawberry Fields. Kurt was sipping on a bottle of water while Blaine ate a soft pretzel.

“So, your time at Dalton sounds pretty amazing,” Kurt said.

“It was at first,” Blaine admitted. “But in my junior year, this guy Sebastian showed up and things changed.”

“Changed how?” Kurt wondered.

Blaine sighed. “Well, he was… charming in a sleazy sort of way. And back then, I always wanted to see the best in people, so I didn’t see it at first. He spent a lot of time flirting and hitting on me. And it was flattering at first. And then it was kind of creepy. But it wasn’t me he really wanted. He wanted control of the Warblers and knew that if I went up against him, he’d lose. So he tried to seduce me to his way of thinking.

“He wanted to make the Warblers… cutthroat,” Blaine said. “And that just wasn’t what we were about. I found out that he was blackmailing other teams and stealing set lists. I didn’t have enough proof to get him expelled, but it was enough to get me pissed off.”

“What did you do?” Kurt asked.

“I started a campaign amongst the Warblers to undermine his power,” Blaine said. “We were a self-governed group, so he really needed to have the majority of the guys behind him to get his way. I took that away from him. Mostly. Nick and Jeff and I were able to wrest control of the Warblers back, but he still had some followers. Enough to make things difficult. And then, in my senior year, Sebastian somehow got this guy Hunter to transfer and join. Hunter was ten times worse than Sebastian. He wanted to use steroids to ‘improve our physicality and dancing.’” 

Kurt scoffed. “What an ass.”

“Yeah,” Blaine agreed. “I had started to record all the meetings by that point. We took the digital file to the administration. Trent, Jeff, Nick and I all testified against Hunter and he was expelled. Sebastian sort of settled down after that, but things were always a little tense. I just hated to see the Warblers reduced to such pettiness. My first and second years, we were like family and Sebastian and Hunter ruined that.”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt said and took Blaine’s hand.

“It was okay,” Blaine said. “I found out who my real friends were. I found out who was worth my time and energy. And the ones who count are still my friends.”

Kurt nodded and they walked hand in hand in silence for a few minutes until Kurt spoke up again. “When my dad had his heart attack, he didn’t die right away. He was in a coma for a few days. The kids from glee club tried to be supportive, but mostly they were just trying to push their religious beliefs on me or feel less guilty for ignoring me or bullying me. My two closest friends, Rachel and Mercedes, were the biggest pushers of their religion. So I did what I always do when pushed: I pushed back.

“Then Dad died and suddenly I couldn’t…” Kurt took a deep breath and calmed down before continuing. “It just seemed easier to let them all go. I was hurt and scared and more alone than I’d ever been in my life, and that’s saying something. And I couldn’t handle making them feel better about how they had acted. I couldn’t handle the drama that seemed to flourish in that group.”

“So you cut them out,” Blaine said quietly, sympathetically.

Kurt nodded. “When my aunt took me to Harrisburg, it was almost a relief. I didn’t have to be strong or fabulous or even okay. I didn’t have to feel guilty for being miserable. I didn’t have to pretend. I could just go to my classes and ignore everything and everyone else. I could work in my aunt’s shop and be as miserable as I wanted to be. She didn’t notice. She didn't know me before and she was usually too high or off on one of her ‘adventures’ to notice much about me.”

“But Puck got through,” Blaine said.

Kurt laughed at that. “He did. Maybe it was because his dad ditched him when he was a kid or maybe it was because he just… got it, but he never tried to make me be anything but what I was. I think I spent the first two months bitching at him every time he called. And he let me.”

“Wow,” Blaine murmured.

“I know,” Kurt said. “I asked him once, years later, why he didn’t just hang up and never call back. He said it was because he knew that I wasn’t really mad at him. I was just mad at the world. He was right. And when he came to New York, he told me one time, after I refused to go out with him to a bar, that I’d done the angry thing, and I’d done the grieving thing and now it was time to do the living thing. Because, he said, my dad would have wanted me to keep living.”

“Wise man,” Blaine said. And he was truly impressed by the wisdom and compassion of a man who, by all outward appearances, looked more like a bully than any of Blaine’s actual bullies back before Dalton.

“Yeah,” Kurt said. “I wish I had been better able to actually follow his advice."


	19. Restaurant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt owns one of the most popular restaurants in New York. When his entertainer shows up drunk, he goes looking for a replacement. Enter Blaine.

Kurt wiped down the stainless steel work table and couldn't hold back a small smile of satisfaction. His life hadn't turned out at all as he had planned back when he was in high school, but it was pretty damned good, nonetheless. He had recently attended his ten year reunion and it had brought back so many memories. Some were good, like the close friendships he had made in glee club and winning the national championship in his senior year. Others were not as good, like the constant bullying from some of the homophobic jocks. But in all, he could now look back at those days with fondness.

Back then, Kurt had been convinced that he was destined to become a Broadway star. As Kurt looked around his kitchen he smiled and thought that he was a star on Broadway, but not in any way he could have dreamed back then. When he was rejected from NYADA, he thought his entire world was coming to an end. He spent weeks and months in a depression so dark he wasn't sure that he would ever rise above it. But then one offhanded comment from Carole, his stepmother, had changed his life forever.

They had all still been reeling at the time; not only had Kurt been rejected by NYADA, but his stepbrother Finn had not made it into his school of choice and had broken up with his fiancé so that she wouldn't be held back by his failure. Carole and Burt hadn't known what to do to help their sons. But that night, Kurt was on kitchen duty and had tried out a couple new recipes for dinner, still trying to make heart healthy food after his father's heart attack the year before.

"Kurt sweetie, this is amazing!" Carole had gushed.

"And it's low in sodium and low in fat," Kurt said with a pointed look at his father. He turned back to Carole. "I just made a few adjustments to the recipe I found online. I'm glad you like it."

"I always look forward to the nights when it's your turn to cook," Carole said honestly. "You're always so creative and the food is always healthy and delicious. You have a real gift."

The topic had turned to other things after that, but Carole's compliment had stuck with Kurt. He was proud of the meals he made for his family. He was glad to be able to find ways to keep his father eating healthy. And he really enjoyed cooking and coming up with new recipes. He'd never considered that a gift or even a talent. It was just something that he did. But with his whole life looming in front of him like an endless sea, he suddenly felt like maybe there was something else he was destined to become. 

It took a little research and a lot of hard work over the next months, but Kurt ended up heading to New York in January and starting school at Le Cordon Bleu's New York Campus and sharing an apartment with Rachel. He took summer courses to make up for missing his first semester, but was soon caught up with his peers. And Carole had been right, Kurt was gifted. He quickly rose to the top of his class. After completing his associates degree, he was offered a chance to compete his education in Paris.

While leaving New York, the city he had dreamed of calling home most of his life, along with Rachel and the friends they had made there, was difficult, Kurt by that time understood that his future was not limited to one city. So he had packed his bags and had gone to Paris. 

Kurt earned his Grand Diplome, meaning he had mastered both French cuisine and pastry making. He was then offered an apprenticeship with one of the world's best pastry chefs right there in Paris. He followed that up with another apprenticeship with a chef known for his health conscious cuisine. For another two years, Kurt learned from the best and had soon earned a reputation of his own in the culinary world. He was featured in several culinary magazines and television features for his innovative approach to healthy cooking. But after eight years of studying, six years after moving to Paris, Kurt was finally ready to head back to New York and strike out on his own.

This restaurant was the result. He had used what was left of the small inheritance from his grandparents after paying for his education and had bought and refurbished this place, turning it into the restaurant of his dreams. It had an elegantly understated dining room, almost minimalist in design. Rather than traditional chairs or booths, Kurt and his designer had used upholstered love seats and armchairs in very modern lines to seat the guests. Everything was in black and white and shades of gray, except for the tables linens which changed with the season but were always bright and cheerful. Even the lighting had been designed to set a specific atmosphere of congeniality.

The kitchen, where Kurt now stood, was usually a place of controlled chaos, but right then, before the rest of the staff arrived for the evening meal, things were quiet. Taking his cue from his experiences in Paris, Kurt had opted not to open his restaurant until the dinner hours. That gave him the morning to buy fresh ingredients from the local markets and the afternoon to tailor his menu accordingly. 

Kurt had two fully qualified chefs under him who often did the bulk of the kitchen work during the rush and were able to take over completely when Kurt took a day off, but he still planned and approved all menus. He also had a pastry chef, though he worked closely with her on the recipes she used in order to keep even the desserts healthy and delicious. Then there were the various sous chefs and assistants. Then the dining room had a floor manager, the wait staff, the bartenders and the hostess. In all, Kurt employed more than fifty people and any given night about half of them were working.

The restaurant, Maison Hummel, quickly became one of the hottest spots in Manhattan to see and be seen. His location, only a block from the heart of Broadway's theater district, made him a favorite of the theater crowd and many of the hottest stars frequented the place. Even some Hollywood celebrities came in when they were in town. And having the rich and famous around guaranteed that everyone else wanted in as well. Their reservation book was filled months in advance and with only the rare cancelation. 

The only table that wasn't booked ahead of time was Kurt's table. He kept one table open at all times for friends or family or sometimes for VIPs. If there was no one to claim it, Kurt would then open it up to the general public right before dinner. There was never an empty table in his restaurant.

So, while he wasn't a star on a Broadway stage, Kurt rather thought he had done pretty damn well for himself. 

"You look like the cat that ate the canary," Charlene, the assistant head chef and one of Kurt's closest friends, said as she entered the kitchen. "Get lucky last night?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I was here all last night, if you recall."

"Not all night," Charlene countered as she pulled on her chef's coat and began looking over the menu Kurt had prepared for the day. Most of it looked like standard fare, but there were one or two items she'd need him to explain. "You could have gone to a club after for all I know."

"Nothing like that," Kurt said. "I was just thinking how lucky I've been. I have everything I could want in life."

"Except a man," Charlene said.

"I've had plenty of men," Kurt huffed. "I'm not exactly a monk, you know. But my schedule doesn't allow for a lot of free time. Most men get sick of taking a back seat to the restaurant."

"When you meet the right one, the restaurant will take a backseat to him," Charlene said knowingly. "Now explain this dish here."

Kurt huffed, but leaned over to see where she was pointing. For the next few minutes, his concentration was on explaining exactly how he wanted the mussels prepared that night.

KBKBKBKBKB

"Are you saying the musician quit?" Kurt asked the floor manager with a sigh.

"No, I'm saying that I fired him after he passed out from being intoxicated on the job," Shelly told him. The last of their customers had gone for the evening, but they would need some sort of entertainment by tomorrow night. One of the draws of the restaurant, besides the great food and ambiance, was the entertainment. Kurt believed that the right attitude while eating could influence not only a person's enjoyment of the food but also the way the body digested that food. "We'll need to hire someone and quickly. I've made a few calls and can get someone to fill in for a few days, but we need someone permanent."

Kurt nodded. "I guess I can ask around tomorrow. One of my many friends and acquaintances has to know somebody."

Kurt and Shelly locked up together and Kurt made sure she got a cab before climbing into the hired car that he scheduled every night he closed the restaurant. Rather than chatting with the driver like usually would, Kurt pulled out his phone and called the one other person he knew would still be up at that time of night. Rachel Berry, for all of her quirks and ambition, had actually made it as a star on Broadway. They had kept in touch over the years that Kurt was in Paris and had reconnected once he had returned. She was still one of his closest friends and she was one of the few people he knew who could help him out.

"Tell me you aren't just closing up now," Rachel said after the phone rang only twice.

Kurt smiled. "I could but I would be lying."

He could hear the fond exasperation in her voice when Rachel said, "That's why you have employees, Kurt. You don't have to be the first person there every morning and the last one to leave every night."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I take time off. And you're one to talk. What happened to taking a break after your last show closed? That lasted what? Three days before you were accepting a new gig and starting rehearsals?"

"It was almost two weeks!" Rachel denied. "Besides, I was bored just sitting home all day."

"You could have taken a vacation," Kurt said. "Anyway, I didn't call to get a lecture on my workaholic tendencies. I need your help."

"Ooh," Rachel cooed. "What can I do for the internationally renowned chef?"

"Our musician showed up drunk again and Shelly fired her," Kurt said. "I need someone new ASAP. Got any ideas?"

"Hmm, well, I know of one or two people who might do," Rachel said. "You're looking for upbeat, right?"

"Yes," Kurt said. "But not loud and obnoxiously peppy. And they have to be talented."

"Of course," Rachel agreed. "With the crowd you draw, they would spot a hack from a mile away. I think I might know someone. He's a writer and composer. He's been trying to get one of his musicals produced for a while now, but he needs the cash to keep him afloat. He's like you, got a bit of a trust fund to help him out, but its not enough to keep him going indefinitely, so he takes odd jobs to supplement. But he's one of the most talented performers I've heard in years. He sometimes plays at the piano bar we used to go to back when I was in NYADA and before you flew off to Paris. Mostly he does accompaniment, but he's got a great voice, too. And I know for a fact that they only pay him a pittance and only three nights a week. I think he'd be up for a change."

"What's his name?" Kurt asked. "And is he playing tonight?"

It was still early enough that the bars would still be open, and though Kurt was tired, he could make a quick stop.

"Actually, yeah, I think he is," Rachel said. "His name is Blaine Anderson. Want me to meet you and make the introduction?"

Kurt considered that but then dismissed the idea. "No, I think I can handle it as long as you don't mind me dropping your name so he doesn't think I'm some maniac hitting on him. What's he look like?"

Fifteen minutes later, the driver pulled up in front of the bar and Kurt climbed from the car. He requested to be picked up again in two hours. That would give him time to observe and then talk to him if he was as good as Rachel claimed.

The bar was almost exactly the way Kurt remembered it from all those years ago. Despite the late hour, it was still packed with young college students and wanna-be performers. Kurt found a seat at the bar and ordered a drink before settling back to observe. 

Blaine Anderson was devastatingly handsome, but that wasn't what drew Kurt to him. Not only did he keep the music going between performances, he kept up a fun and flirty chatter with the customers that had them fully engaged. And the one time there was a lull in the signup list, he filled it by singing himself. Kurt was blown away by the man's acoustic version of Teenage Dream. He was everything that Rachel had promised, now the only question was would he be interested in working for Kurt.

About an hour after arriving, the last of the performers was called. The bar would stay open for a couple more hours, but the open mike was done. Kurt approached the man as he brought his empty water glass over to the bar and asked the bartender for something stronger.

"Blaine Anderson?" Kurt said once Blain had a chance to take a satisfying gulp of his beer.

Blaine turned towards Kurt and nodded. He had a friendly smile on his face, though Kurt could tell he was a little wary. "That's me. And you are?"

"Kurt Hummel," Kurt said. "I own--"

"Maison Hummel," Blaine said with a nod. "You're that celebrity chef. What can I do for you?"

"Actually, I had hoped we could discuss a business proposition," Kurt said. "Our regular musician was... unreliable and unprofessional. To say the least. I now find myself in desperate need of new entertainment. I was hoping you might be persuaded to jump ship."

Blaine eyed Kurt for a long minute while he finished off his beer. "Let me get my coat and we can go some place quieter to talk."

A few minutes later, Kurt and Blaine were on the sidewalk and heading to a nearby coffee shop. 

"I'm not sure exactly what you want from me," Blaine said. "I mean, my style on stage isn't exactly low-key."

"I'm not looking for low-key," Kurt countered. "Rachel Berry mentioned your name to me when I told her about needing a new performer. I know that when most people think of expensive restaurants, they think of stuffy places with boring piano music that really should be ignored, but my place isn't like that. We don't even have a dress code... though honestly most people who pay as much for a meal as we charge wouldn't show up in ripped jeans and hoodies."

"More like designer jeans," Blaine guessed.

"Yeah," Kurt agreed with a small smile. They reached the cafe and Kurt held the door open for the shorter man. They found a quiet table near the back and ordered coffee. "I want the restaurant to be a happy place. I'm not looking for someone to play boring piano melodies like the live version of elevator music. What you were doing tonight, minus the open mic, is more what I like to offer my guests."

"What happened to the last guy?" Blaine asked.

"She developed a problem with alcohol," Kurt sighed. "She was very good for the first year or so, but her wife left her and she started drinking. Unfortunately, she showed up to work drunk one time too many. We may be casual, but not that casual."

"Sounds interesting," Blaine finally said. "But why would I want to come work for you? I've already got a gig."

"Rachel seemed to think you would be interested in working more than three nights a week," Kurt said. "And I can almost guarantee that I'll pay better. We have another performer for Sundays and Mondays, but we'd need you the other five days a week." Then he named the salary that he had paid his previous entertainer. "Plus, of course, any tips that the guests give for requests."

Blaine chuckled. "That's almost twice what I make now. And college kids aren't great about tipping. Hours?"

"Our first reservations are at 7," Kurt said. "And the last guests have usually gone by 1, so six hours a night, five nights a week with two short breaks and a dinner break. And we'll feed you."

"Well, that just tips the scale right there," Blaine said with a grin. "The way to a man's heart is definitely through his stomach. I'll need to give notice, but I'm actually only scheduled two days a week for the next couple weeks. I couldn't work this Saturday, but the rest of the week should be fine. And then next week, I'm scheduled for Thursday and Friday. After that, I can be all yours."

"We have a girl who fills in when we need her, so that should be fine," Kurt agreed. He pulled out his business card. "If you want, you can start tomorrow."

"Sounds good," Blaine agreed. He took out his wallet to pay for his coffee, but Kurt waved him off and tossed down enough for both of them before leading the way back to the street. "So I guess I'll see you tomorrow. Or later today. I'll probably show up a little early to get the feel for the piano and warmup."

Kurt nodded. "If I'm not available, just ask for Shelly. She's the manager for the dining room and bar."

They shook hands and parted ways: Blaine towards the subway and Kurt to the car that was waiting for him. As Blaine left, Kurt wondered about this man who intrigued him more than any man had in years.

KBKBKBKBKB


	20. Park Slope Alpha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt is an Alpha who finds Blaine, an Omega, just before his heat, and offers him a safe place to hide.
> 
> Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics. Mpreg.

Kurt Hummel was almost always alone these days. The only time he interacted with other people on a regular basis was at work. On the commute from his brownstone in Park Slope to his office in Midtown Manhattan, he was surrounded by thousands of other commuters on the F train each day, so he wasn't truly alone. And yet he felt more alone than he ever had in his life. Even in high school, when he was the only out gay kid, harassed daily by jocks and overlooked by his friends, he hadn't felt this alone.

He usually avoided looking at any of his fellow passengers directly, though the harried mom with her three kids drew his attention that day and he gave her a sympathetic smile. Carting three kids through the city could not be easy, even for natives of New York. Kurt was no native, but after almost ten years of living in the near constant chaos, he felt like he had earned the title of New Yorker.

The 7th Ave station was like every other subway station in New York, dingy, but Kurt had traveled this same path for almost four years now and it was a very short walk to the stairs and up to street level. Once in the open air, Kurt took a deep breath and headed up 7th Ave towards home. He passed New York Methodist Hospital, Barnes and Noble, and some of his favorite little shops and restaurants before turning and reaching the little market on the corner of 1st Street. Fifteen minutes later, his arms laden with groceries, Kurt headed down 1st Street towards Prospect Park. Thankfully, he only had a block and a half to walk this time, because between his messenger bag and the groceries, he wasn't sure that he could have made it much further.

When he reached the steps to his home, Kurt took a moment to look up at the structure. When he'd first seen the place, he had fallen in love right away with the architecture and the quaintness of the street. He loved the little garden of potted flowers that the previous owners had started beside the stairs and so he kept it up, weeding and planting on weekends as a means of relaxation. Besides the garden, the bright blue door helped his house stand out from the rest of the row houses and made Kurt smile each time he arrived at his steps.

Inside, Kurt took a deep breath before heading directly to the kitchen to put the groceries away. Once that chore was done, he grabbed his bag and put it away in his office. Then he headed up the stairs to the master suite, where he changed out of his work clothes and into comfortable running pants and a t-shirt. Back downstairs, Kurt quickly tossed the ingredients for a simple casserole into a pan and then put it all into the oven. By the time he returned from his run and showered, it would be ready to eat.

One of the reasons Kurt had bought this particular house was its proximity to Prospect Park. There were few places in New York City with as much green space. The prices of housing around Central Park in Manhattan meant that he would have gotten a lot less for his money. But out here, in Brooklyn, he had a four story brownstone, a block from the park, for what he would have paid for a condo with half the square footage in Manhattan. Plus, he never would have found a place with a back yard in Manhattan. That was where his real gardening was done, where he grew most of his vegetables, and where he could relax on a warm evening with a glass of wine. It was his oasis of calm in a city of chaos.

Kurt stretched on the sidewalk outside his front door before starting his run. He kept a slow but steady pace, warming up his body, until he reached the running track that ran the perimeter of the park. It was three and a quarter miles in total, and Kurt let the beauty of the park envelop him as he made the familiar trip past the picnic areas, the bandshell, the lake, the boathouse, the zoo and the botanical gardens.

It was just after he passed the Brooklyn Library, before he did a lap around the Grand Army Plaza, that Kurt smelled it.

There were a lot of things to smell in the city, some of them pleasant and others downright foul. But this was something else entirely. It was sweet and musky and pungent. Kurt halted his stride and lifted his nose for a moment before he could place what exactly he was smelling. 

Omega.

There was an unbonded omega in the early stages of heat nearby. 

Kurt wasn't sure what he should do. Omegas weren't supposed to be out and unprotected at any time, but especially not during a heat. There were sanctuaries for omegas, created to protect them from attack by unscrupulous alphas. But even a morally-upright alpha would find it nearly impossible to hold back with an omega in full heat.

Kurt didn't want to call the authorities until he knew what exactly was going on. He had always prided himself on his ability to control his alpha urges, so he steeled his resolve and began to track the smell away from the roadway and through the trees. 

Kurt was taken aback by what he found only a few yards from the well travelled path. There was a young man, asleep on a makeshift bed of leaves covered by a wool blanket, his head resting on a duffle bag. He was shivering in the cool evening air, his face flush with the first stages of heat. But that face, what Kurt could see of it, was absolutely gorgeous. His hair, messy from his restless sleep, was a wild mass of dark curls. His skin, dark with grime, was still flawless. He was absolutely the most beautiful boy Kurt had ever seen.

Kurt approached him slowly and carefully. He didn't want to startle the younger man. Kurt had only been around one omega in heat: his mother. But she had died when he was still very young, too young to understand what was going on, so he had to rely on the sparse information that he had learned in sex education class back in high school. What he recalled from those lessons said that omegas in heat were easily agitated and could become aggressive as the heat progressed.

"Excuse me," Kurt said carefully. He kept his tone soothing as he knelt to gently touch the man's shoulder. The man groaned but blinked up at him through heavy eyelids. His eyes, Kurt noted were a vibrant shade of hazel: rich amber with flecks of green almost glowing in the last light of day. Kurt shook off those thoughts and shook the man again when he would have fallen back to sleep. "You can't stay here. It isn't safe."

The man rubbed sleep from his eyes and blinked up at Kurt groggily for a moment, but once he recognized the scent of an alpha, he shoved Kurt and shuffled away as quickly as he could.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Kurt told him, his hands out placatingly. "I promise. But you aren't safe here. Your heat is beginning. I can smell it. And it won't be long before others can as well. You have to get somewhere safe."

The wide frightened eyes stared at Kurt for a long minute before the omega finally spoke. "There isn't anywhere safe."

"What about a safe house?" Kurt asked. "There's one on 8th Street."

The man shook his head adamantly and Kurt could see genuine terror in his eyes. "That's where I was... they are... they don't... I can't go back there. I can't!"

Kurt had heard rumors that some sanctuaries were run by unscrupulous people, but he had always assumed that they were just rumors. Surely the government wouldn't allow omegas to be abused in the place where they were supposed to be safest. But the terror on the omega's face told him otherwise.

"Okay, not there," Kurt said. "But I don't know where else to take you."

"Just not there," the man begged. "Anywhere but there."

Kurt took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay. I have a house nearby. It's not ideal, because, well, I'm an alpha and even a locked door won't be enough to keep the pheromones from seeping in and out. But I have a guest suite. We could lock you inside. We'll make sure you have plenty of food and water. And there's a private bathroom, so you wouldn't have to leave the room at all."

The younger man looked rightfully wary, but he eventually nodded. Kurt helped him gather his belongings and they began the short walk back to Kurt's house. They didn't talk much. Kurt was too busy trying to control his alpha instincts. The urge to mate with this omega was almost overwhelming, and he wasn't even in full heat yet. He did think to ask his name.

"Blaine Anderson," the kid said. 

"Good to meet you Blaine," Kurt replied. "I'm Kurt Hummel."

GLEE

Kurt got Blaine settled into the third floor guest room, then went to the kitchen to put together some food and water for the kid. Heat could last anywhere from two to four days. And while Blain probably wouldn't have much of an appetite, it was important for him to keep hydrated and keep his strength up. So Kurt gathered protein bars, fruit and bottles of water and sports drink. Then he went to his bedroom and dug through his closet until he found the box of gag gifts that Santana had given him for his birthday one year when she still thought he was an omega. He had never used any of the toys inside, most were still in their original wrappers, but he thought that Blaine might need them. He had heard that going through heat alone could be a very difficult thing for an omega and dildos supposedly helped the discomfort a bit. He added a new tube of lubricant to the sex toys and headed back to the guest suite. Blaine was digging through his duffle bag and looked up when Kurt entered the room. 

"I brought you food, and some other things you might need," Kurt told him. "The bathroom is well stocked with toiletries and towels. And there's a phone on the bedside table; my cell phone is programmed into it. Just dial memory 1 if you need anything. Or 911 if there's an emergency. I'm going to lock you in, and I won't allow myself to even come on this floor until you call to tell me it's over. Before I do that, is there anything else you need?"

Blaine looked lost for a moment but then nodded. "Maybe something to read? Once it gets going, I won't be able to concentrate on anything really, but it comes and goes in waves and the down times can get pretty boring if I'm not sleeping."

Kurt nodded before heading back down to his library/office. He grabbed a selection of books, some fiction and some non-fiction, and a few magazines. He went back to the kitchen and dished out a serving of the casserole. Blaine really should eat a good meal while he still could. Then he carried the tray and books back up the stairs.

Blaine looked immensely grateful as Kurt left the tray on the small desk by the window. Kurt just smiled and nodded. "Good luck."

"Thanks," Blaine said.

And then Kurt shut and locked the door.

GLEE

The four days that followed were the longest of Kurt's life. He didn't feel safe leaving Blaine alone in the house, locked up in the guest bedroom, so he took two days off and spent a long weekend at home. He tried to work a little in his office, but it was directly below the omega, and the pheromones were heavy in the air. It took everything in him to go back down the stairs and not up to the third floor.

Most of the four days passed in a blur. Kurt spent a lot of time in his basement home gym, relieving the stress of denying his instincts through exhausting workouts. He avoided the second floor except to shower after his workouts. He even slept on the sofa in the living room so that he would have more space between himself and Blaine.

The worst times, however, were when even two floors and soundproofed walls weren't enough to damper the sounds of Blaine's cries. The need and desperation in the boy's voice were enough to make Kurt want to put aside his good intentions and fuck the omega like he was literally begging to be fucked. But somehow, he was able to get past those urges. Usually by heading back to the basement for another workout.

Through it all, Kurt wondered about the young man who was residing in his guest room. He wondered how he had ended up in New York. He wondered how old he was and where his family was. He wondered what exactly the kid had seen to put the terror in his eyes when they talked about the omega sanctuary. 

It was almost exactly four days after Kurt had locked the door that his cell phone rang and his home phone number came up on the display. A quick conversation passed and Kurt retrieved the key from his desk and headed up to free his guest.

When Kurt opened the door, he found Blaine sitting patiently on the bed. He was freshly showered and had obviously spent a little time trying to look presentable. He was wearing a soft red cardigan over a light blue polo with a red, white and blue bow tie along with navy blue pants that had been rolled up at the cuffs. On his feet, he wore red boat shoes with no socks, despite the chill of early March weather.

"Everything okay?" Kurt asked.

Blaine gave him a grateful smile. "I'm tired and sore and starving, but it wasn't the worst heat I've been through." He blushed lightly. "I wanted to thank you for the, uh... toys. That was thoughtful. And really helpful."

"You're welcome," Kurt said, though he was blushing now too. "I was about to eat dinner. I figured you would be hungry, so I made a lot."

Blaine followed Kurt down the two flights of stairs to the kitchen, which overlooked the comfortable living room. While Kurt began dishing up their plates, Blaine looked around. "This is a really nice place you have. I love the way you've decorated."


	21. Britt's Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While still in high school, Brittany gets pregnant with Kurt's baby. But since Kurt is gay, she refuses to marry him. So Kurt ends up raising their child alone. The small family eventually make it to New York, where they meet Blaine, the lead actor in the musical that Kurt's son has been cast in.

When Brittany told Kurt that she was pregnant, the first thing he did was to rush to the girls' restroom to throw up. The second thing he did--after rinsing out his mouth and washing his face with her watching him curiously, and while still standing in the girls' bathroom--was to ask her to marry him. In that moment, he didn't think about the fact that he knew he was 100% gay, or that he had only been dating her for the last year and a half to hide that fact from the bullies at their oppressive high school, or that he loved the beautiful blonde girl more like a sister. He could only think about the right thing to do, and that was to support his girlfriend and his baby.

Thankfully, Brittany, though she was very different in the way her mind worked and seemed pretty dumb most of the time to those who didn't love her, chose that moment to say something brilliant: "Kurt, don't be silly. You're a dolphin and I'm a mermaid. We can't get married."

Kurt let out a sigh of relief, but that relief only lasted a moment before the truth of their situation hit him. They were just finishing up their junior year of high school and neither one was in a position to raise a child, married or not. But there was a part of Kurt that knew, deep down, that this might be his only chance to be a father. Despite changing laws and attitudes about homosexuality, it was still difficult and expensive for gay men to have children. It seemed like a horrible waste to toss this opportunity away when he knew in his heart that he really wanted to be a dad.

And so, after long talks with his father, with Brittany, and eventually with Brittany's parents, it was decided that Kurt would keep the baby and raise it. Brittany signed over all rights to Kurt and decided that after the baby was born, he would belong to Kurt and Kurt alone. What followed were weeks and months of planing and preparing, but nothing could fully prepare him for the reality of becoming a father at the age of 18.

Alexander Pierce Hummel was born on November 4th of Kurt's senior year of high school. He was a few weeks early and a little under weight, but otherwise a healthy baby boy. But he was an infant and demanded a lot of time and attention. Getting through classes without falling asleep after spending most of the night up with a fussy baby made it clear that Kurt's plans for his future needed to be reevaluated.

So, Kurt set aside his dreams of going to NYADA and one day becoming a Broadway star for more practical goals. He applied to Ohio State because it was affordable, they offered accommodations for single parents and he would be close enough to Lima to go home often. He applied for and received grants and scholarships based on his academics, his talents and his status as a single parent. When September arrived, Kurt bundled Alex up into his carrier and they set off to college.

College was hard. Not because of the coursework; Kurt was very intelligent and had few problems with the classes. No, it was hard because Kurt was trying to cope with being a parent and with keeping up with his courses at the same time. If Alex had a fever, that took priority over Kurt's history paper. And then there was the fact that it was difficult making friends at college when he couldn't just drop everything to go to a party. He was friendly with a few of the students in his major and a few of the other parents who used the university daycare center, but he didn't really have any true friends.

Most of his friends from high school moved on with their lives and those that could got as far away from Lima as possible. Kurt didn't want to burden them with his problems. And the few friends who stayed in Lima were dealing with their own issues. So, in a lot of ways, Kurt spent the four years of college alone. Other than those weekends he went home so that his parents could look after Alex for a while and he could catch up on his assignments, Kurt's whole life consisted of classes and Alex.

Even with all of the struggles of being a single parent and a student, Kurt graduated Summa Cum Laud; in fact he was the top of his class and was chosen to speak at the graduation ceremony. Burt Hummel couldn't hide the pride he felt for his boy if he tried.

With a double major in Musicology and Languages, minors in History and Gender Studies, a membership in Phi Beta Kappa, and GRE test scores off the charts, there was more than one graduate program eager for Kurt to join them, and willing to pay his way to get him there. In the end, he chose to study Historical Musicology at Columbia, not because it was the best (it was still in the top ten in the country), but because it finally allowed him to go to New York, which had always been his dream.

Alex, at four years old, adapted to city life faster than Kurt did, though he missed being able to see his "Gampa" and "Gamma." He loved that there was always so much to see and do. When he started school, he loved his teachers and the after-school activities. He started playing sports at age 5 and by age 7 he was on a team for every season of the year; he played soccer in the fall, basketball in the winter, baseball in the spring and swam in the summer. He took dance and music and art lessons because he loved all three. He was as smart as Kurt and as popular as Brittany and so both teachers and his peers loved him.

Kurt was was 25 years old when he finally got to NYADA. Not as a student, as he had once dreamed, but as a professor: teaching classes in historical musicology with an emphasis on musical theater, as well as classes in music theory for analysis and composition. At age 27, Kurt became the youngest professor at NYADA to gain tenure.

Two months later, Alex came home from his dance class and told his father about the casting director that had observed their class that day.

"He said he's casting for a new musical about a baseball player," Alex explained. "He's gay and struggling with coming out. There's flashbacks, though, of the guy when he was a kid. The casting guy thought I fit the right look and stuff. He said I'd have to audition, just to make sure that I can act and sing and stuff. Oh, but he also said he thinks I'll be a good fit because I play ball."

Kurt took a deep breath and tried not to let his mind run away from him. He had always made a point of not pushing his own dreams onto Alex, and yet here was his beautiful son on the brink of fulfilling his lost dream.

"Doing a show like this would be a huge commitment," Kurt said as he continued to prepare a lasagna to put into the oven for their dinner. "It would take up a lot of time. You wouldn't be able to keep up with all of your sports and extracurricular activities."

Alex shrugged and grabbed an apple out of the fruit bowl for a snack to tide him over until dinner. "Well, if I'm doing the show, I won't need dance or music lessons for a while, 'cause they'll do all that, right?"

"True," Kurt said. "But you're getting ready to start soccer season. You definitely wouldn't have time for that and a show."

"I was thinking of giving up soccer and basketball, anyhow," Alex admitted. "If this guy hadn't brought this up, I was thinking of doing more swimming meets. Maybe try diving. Plus, the role won't last forever, so I could always go back to the sports later. So that just leaves art lessons, and I think I can talk Mrs. Jenson into changing up our schedule to fit the show."

Kurt stared at his son and swore for a minute he was looking into a mirror. Except for the fact that he had hair that hung in loose curls, Alex looked just like him at that age. And his habit of having an answer for everything was definitely just like Kurt.

"It sounds like you've given this a lot of thought," Kurt said mildly.

Alex tossed his apple core into the trash and turned to face his father eye to eye. "I have. I don't know if I want to be an actor or performer for the rest of my life, but I really want to try this. And you're the one who's always saying I can try anything as long as I'm willing to put the work into it."

"Okay," Kurt said. "I'll talk to the casting director and if I think that the requirements are reasonable and won't interfere too much with your education, I'll consider it. But I'm not making any promises."

Alex, who knew his father, knew that Kurt meant what he said. But he also knew that Kurt would really consider it and only say no if he had a good reason. That was why Alex threw his arms around his father and mumbled, "Thanks Dad," into Kurt's chest.


	22. Alpha Farm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt owns his own Organic Food company, and is looking to expand. He invites the new banker to his home to discuss a loan. Mr Anderson brings along his son, Blaine, who is a huge fan of Kurt's food.
> 
> Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics. Possible Mpreg eventually.

Kurt wiped the sweat from his brow and winced when he realized that he probably smeared dirt in its place. Getting dirty was his least favorite part of gardening. Seeing something grow from a seed to something either beautiful or delicious was his favorite part. It was a love-hate relationship that had begun when his mother was still alive. The two of them would spend hours every weekend nurturing seedlings in their small greenhouse or tending to the more mature plants in the garden.

When Kurt's mother died, it had been mid-winter and when spring came, Kurt hadn't wanted anything to do with the garden. But after a year of mourning, Kurt had decided that his mother would hate to see the bare planting beds and set to work. He had been only eight years old and his father, Burt, had needed to till the soil for him, but the garden had always been Kurt and Elizabeth's domain, and Burt left his son to it. 

The first years had been filled with trial and error, as well as hours and hours spent in the library learning the best methods. His mother had always planned everything, and Kurt learned quickly that gardening is more complicated than just planting a few seeds and keeping the weeds at bay. By the time Kurt was twelve, however, he had not only gotten the garden back up to what it had been under his mother's care, but he had doubled its size and asked for a larger greenhouse for his birthday.

Of course, having a garden that size meant that they had a lot more produce than the two of them could eat during the growing season, so Kurt also expanded the basic canning that his mother had always done. Rather than canning a few extra tomatoes and pickling a few more cucumbers, Kurt began canning corn salsa and vegetable soup and gazpacho and half a dozen jams and jellies and numerous other things. 

They had so much food that Kurt often sent extras to work with Burt. And when Kurt was fifteen, with the encouragement of the wives of all of the guys at the garage, he began selling a couple jams and salsas at local fairs and online. Surprisingly, it didn't take long for his small business to take off and start making some rather good money. Soon, Kurt's whole summer, along with most weekends during the school year, was dedicated to growing and canning and selling his canned foods. 

Kurt had considered many careers, including fashion, interior decorating and performing arts, but in his heart, he knew that he was going to make a career out of what had once been a hobby and a way to save money on groceries. So when the time came to choose a college, Kurt stuck close to home and attended UNOH, the University of Northwestern Ohio right there just outside Lima, where he could earn a degree in agribusiness while continuing to grow his fledgling company.

When Kurt graduated, he took every penny he had saved up since he was fifteen, took out a small business loan, and bought a farm about half an hour southeast of Lima. The farm came with a lot more acres than he could reasonably keep up at first, even if he'd been able to afford a few hired hands, but Kurt believed that his business would grow. For years, he had been turning away potential buyers because he couldn't produce enough goods to satisfy demand.

The farm not only had plenty of land to grow crops, it had a building that had once been used as a dairy processing plant that Kurt converted to be the perfect place to make and can his many recipes. And there was already a small grove of productive fruit trees and bushes that would allow Kurt to expand his offerings. Plus, there was a comfortable old farmhouse where Kurt could live.

Five years after graduation, Kurt had already paid off his loan and was looking to expand the canning production for the second time and buying more land to expand the crop production. Kurt's Organic Foods was a hit, selling in specialty food markets as far away as New York and Chicago.

As Kurt pulled his gardening gloves from his hands and surveyed his work, he was glad that he had set aside a small plot for a personal garden. As successful as the business was, most of the growing was now handled by hired hands. They followed his instructions, but Kurt wouldn't ever get his hands dirty if he hadn't decided to keep a garden for himself. His garden allowed him to grow things that weren't produced for the masses and gave him a place to retreat when the stress of running a business got to be too much.

It wasn't just the crops that were out of his hands these days. Kurt had more than 100 employees in total--about half worked in canning and the other half worked in the fields. He had a personal assistant and a full-time chef hired to help him perfect new recipes for the market, though the basic recipes still came from his imagination. Kurt's Organic was already selling 5 soups, 10 jams, jellies and chutneys, 5 salsas, 3 varieties of tomato sauce, and red and white varieties of vegetarian chili. Then there were the firms that he contracted to handle all his marketing and legal matters, and the more than 20 other organic farms worldwide that provided some of the goods they couldn't grow locally. 

In all, Kurt figured that more than 200 people depended on his company for their employment to some degree or another. But being responsible for so many people was stressful and Kurt took solace in his private garden. Mostly, he grew flowers in his private garden these days, but he did keep a small patch of food for himself and his dad.

Brushing the dirt from his knees, Kurt gathered his tools, knee pad and gloves into his basket and headed for the gardening shed. Once there, he cleaned and stored his tools on the peg board before washing the dirt from the eggplant, and other vegetables he had picked for that evening's dinner. 

With the exponential growth he had seen over the past five years, Kurt was pretty sure that he could easily secure another loan for his business, but it never hurt to butter up the bankers with a good home-cooked meal. It had worked when Burt Hummel had needed a loan to expand his garage. It had worked when Kurt had been looking for his first loan. 

Of course, things had changed a lot since Kurt had gotten his first loan. The local bank had been bought out by a much larger bank based in Columbus, and Kurt hadn't grown up seeing the new president several times a week. He was also asking for a lot more money than he had the first time around. He was basically looking to more than double his production. That included buying another two neighboring farms with even more combined acreage than his current farm, building a larger canning facility, a factory to expand into frozen foods, and a large warehouse to store products until they could be shipped. Storage had become a major issue since they canned most of their products in the summer and fall but sent them out to distributors year round.

Kurt had his business plan all laid out, including projected sales, the new markets that his sales team had already lined up, how many new employees he would need, how long it would take to get everything up and running, and the new products that the expansion would allow them to launch. What he didn't have was a clear understanding of how the new bank president worked.

Hence the dinner.

Kurt carried his basket into the kitchen of his cozy little farmhouse and hummed as he set about preparing for dinner. For a starter, he would prepare pumpkin soup even though it was still a little early in the season for it. Unlike many farmers in the area who grew smaller pumpkins for decorative purposes, he planted his large pumpkins very early so that he would have time to process and can the various seasonal pumpkin products in time for the big pumpkin rush in October and November. That meant that much of August and September was dedicated to pumpkins at Kurt's Organic Farms.

The soup course would be followed by a fresh salad. He grew all the greens in his garden or his greenhouse, so they were fresh and crispy and he made an amazing strawberry balsamic vinaigrette dressing. The main course was eggplant parmesan with homemade fettuccine and Kurt's now famous marinara sauce. Finally, for dessert, he made an apple crumb pie. 

Thankfully many of the things on the menu could be prepared ahead of time, so Kurt really only had to worry about the eggplant, the salad, the dressing, and heating up the rest of the food. Once everything was at a good place, Kurt rushed upstairs to shower and change clothes. There had been a time in his life when Kurt spent more than an hour each morning on his appearance, but these days he could shower and dress in under twenty minutes. It was partly because he had cut back how much time he spent choosing an outfit and partly because he was much faster about styling his hair. He still spent time on his moisturizing every night, but when you spend most of your time either in a factory or a field, fashion becomes less of a priority; Kurt now had a lot fewer couture outfits for events such as this dinner meeting. 

Still, before heading back down the stairs, Kurt paused to take a look at his refection in the mirror. He was wearing a closely tailored charcoal sharkskin suit from one of his favorite designers. Matched with a black shirt and tie, along with his favorite pair of Ferragamo shoes, he thought he looked good. His hair was carefully styled and there was nothing left in his appearance to say that he ever spent any time in a field or factory. He nodded with satisfaction.

Back in the kitchen, Kurt carefully removed his jacket and donned an apron before getting back to work. As he cooked, Kurt considered his home. It was cozy and warm, but it wasn't posh or sleek like a person from the city might expect. It was a farmhouse and Kurt felt like he had to honor the house when he decorated. So it was filled with sturdy and comfortable furnishings. He had used bolder colors than any of the previous owners might have ever imagined, and the few places he used wallpaper the patterns were closer to victorian than modern. He also had an eclectic mix of antique and contemporary furniture. But in all, he thought his house had a smart look and a whimsical feel to it, without being pretentious or out of place in a farming community. 

Kurt shook off his insecurities with a huff of annoyance. It had been a long time since he had cared about what anyone thought about him or his home. He was who he was. The people that mattered loved him and the rest weren't important enough to be concerned. That had been a difficult lesson for him to learn, growing up a gay person in a less than accepting community, but he had survived high school and come out stronger for the hardships he had faced. Now, some of his high school bullies actually worked for him and called him Mr. Hummel. And if this banker didn't like him or his house, if he chose not to give him a loan, then Kurt would simply seek backing from other sources. There had already been offers from some of the major food companies to take over his company. He didn't want to sell, but it meant that there were people out there that saw the value of what he was doing. He could find others.

The doorbell rang precisely on time and Kurt pulled on his suit jacket on his way to the front door. Charles Anderson wasn't exactly as Kurt had imagined him, but it was a close thing. He wasn't as tall as Kurt had pictured, and his salt-and-pepper hair was more pepper than salt, leading Kurt to believe that he was younger than he had thought. But the conservative bespoke suit in navy pinstripe complete with red power tie and kerchief in the pocket was precisely what Kurt had pictured.

The younger man behind Charles Anderson, however, was completely unexpected. Kurt hadn't known that the bank president was bringing anyone with him. It was obvious by the way the younger man was dressed that he was not a banker by trade. His outfit could technically pass for business attire, but only in the most liberal cities, and certainly not in the finance world. His navy pants were tailored and close-fitting, cropped to show off his sock-less ankles and colorful red and white boat shoes. He wore a red suit jacket with navy piping at the lapels and cuffs that Kurt recognized from a new designer that he had yet to try. Beneath the jacket, he wore a white shirt with a red, white, blue and yellow argyle sweater-vest. And the piece de resistance to his magnificent outfit was the adorable vintage matching bow-tie and kerchief: yellow silk with red and blue birds.

On top of the most fabulous outfit that Kurt had seen outside of the pages of GQ--aside from his own wardrobe, of course--the young man had the most wonderful dark curls that he had tamed with a tad too much product and the most expressive hazel eyes. 

Kurt decided in an instant that he could fall in love with this man. 

"Mr. Hummel," the older of the pair said. "I'm Charles Anderson and this is my son, Blaine. I believe you were expecting me?"

"I was," Kurt said with a smile. "Please come in. Dinner is just about ready."

"I'm really sorry for just showing up unannounced," Blaine said as he followed his father inside. "But when I heard that Dad was coming here to meet you, I just had to come along."

"And there is very little I will deny my Bumble Bee," Charles said with a fond look for his son. 

Blaine flushed with embarrassment. "Dad!"

"It's fine," Kurt said with a smile. "Just let me put out an extra place setting and we can start with the first course."

In minutes, Kurt had rearranged the table in the dining room to accommodate another guest and they were soon enjoying the first course. Talk remained light and focused on polite topics through the first two courses. It wasn't until the main course that Blaine changed the topic to something more personal.

"Oh, this is your famous marinara," Blaine said. "It's one of my favorite things your company produces."

"I'm glad you like it," Kurt said. "Have you tried many of our products?"

"All of them," Blaine said. "Well, except for the cranberry-apple butter. My roommate is allergic to cranberries. I've been buying your products since I was in high school. I went to a local arts fair and bought some from the stand you had set up. You weren't there, but the blond girl who was running it for you was adamant that I try the sweet corn salsa. I did, and I fell in love. I've been trying everything you produce ever since."

"That's really amazing," Kurt said. "I mean, I know that people like what I sell, or else I wouldn't have seen the success I've seen. But to hear that someone truly appreciates what I make... well, aside from my father, who is quite biased on the subject... anyway, thank you. What, if I may ask, is your favorite?"

"Oh, I doubt I could pick just one thing," Blaine said. "I love your gazpacho soup, but I also love your vodka sauce, and your marinara. And I've already gushed about your sweet corn salsa. And Sam and I always have a few different jams and jellies. But if I had to pick just one thing... I think it would be the white chili. It's so good, I could eat it almost every day. Dad even likes it, don't you."

"Is that the vegetarian chili you bring over sometimes?" Charles asked with surprise. "I didn't realize that it was mass produced. I thought you bought it from a local restaurant or made it yourself."

"Oops," Blaine said with a teasing grin. "Guess I could have taken credit."

"Well, if the quality of the food you produce is as good as that chili," Charles said, "or half as good as the meal you've served tonight, I can certainly see why you've been so successful."

"How did you get started in this business?" Blaine asked. "You can't be more than a year older than me, but you were already selling your food when I was still in high school."

Kurt took a moment to consider how to answer his question. "When I was young, my mother and I would garden together. And we would can some of what we produced each year. But she died when I was seven. After that, gardening became a way to be close to her. I found peace there. But when you garden, you usually produce more than you anticipate. So I started canning. Each year, I gardened more and canned more. And I experimented with recipes and expanded what types of foods I was growing and canning.

"My father isn't the healthiest eater, so I tried to make healthy foods that he would eat," Kurt said. "That's how the vegetarian chilis were created. By the time I started high school, I had a number of people tell me I should sell my food. So I did. I got a business license and made sure that my dad's kitchen was up to health codes and got certified as an organic producer. Then I designed a label that I could print out on my home printer and Kurt's Organic Foods was born."

"That's amazing," Charles said. "I must admit that I was expecting someone much older than yourself when I came here tonight."

As they had all finished their main course, Kurt took a few minutes to clear the table. He was surprised when Blaine and Charles followed him into the kitchen with their remaining dishes. "You didn't have to do that."

"It's nothing," Blaine said. "I hate sitting around watching other people work. So, what can we do to help?"

Kurt was just rinsing the dishes and putting them into the dishwasher, so there wasn't much for them to do. "Well, you could start a pot of coffee, if you wouldn't mind. I'm almost done here, and then I was just going to serve the apple pie."

Charles took a seat in the family room that connected to the kitchen while Blaine helped Kurt prepare the final course of their meal. Then they joined the older man in the family room to enjoy the sweet course.

"You've had no formal culinary training?" Charles asked after taking a bite of the decadent dessert.

Kurt shook his head. "I'm completely self-taught. I went to school and got a degree in agribusiness, so that I could continue to maintain control over the ingredients I use in my products. I believe that the best way to insure that all of my foods are healthy and organic is to control how and where they are grown and how and where they are processed and canned. There are chemicals I could use to make growing crops easier. There are other chemicals that could extend the shelf life of our products. But I believe that many of our health problems today stem from consuming too many chemicals and maintaining poor diets."

"So are you a vegetarian?" Blaine asked.

Kurt smiled and shook his head. "Not at all. In fact, my favorite way to eat my own white chili is to toss in some ground turkey or pieces of chicken. I just think that we as a society eat too much meat, too many refined sugars, and too many processed foods. And while my foods are processed, they are as close to homemade as you can get in a store."

"And you can tell the difference," Blaine agreed.

"How many stores currently sell your products?" Charles asked, finally getting down to business. For the next hour, Kurt answered questions and explained his plans for the future in detail. He had already sent Charles his business plan with his application for the loan, so he was familiar with the basics, but Kurt was able to really share his dream for the future of Kurt's Organic.

When Kurt finally wound down, Charles nodded his head. "I'm beginning to buy into your vision, Kurt. I'd like to tour your current facilities and possibly see the properties you are considering for the expansion."

"Of course," Kurt agreed readily as he led the father and son toward the front door. "Name the day. I'll arrange everything with the property agent. And Blaine, if you'd like to tag along to see how everything works, you would be more than welcome."

"I would love that," Blaine said with a wide smile and he reached out and clasped Kurt's hand in his. That simple contact made Kurt's alpha instincts kick into high gear. All evening, Kurt had been aware of the fact that Blaine was an omega, but only in the same way he was aware that Blaine had hazel eyes: it was an attractive trait in a potential love interest. But that simple touch ramped that awareness up exponentially. Suddenly, Kurt was aware of the pheromones that Blaine was sending his direction, telling him that the omega would be open to a little attention.

Charles, a beta, wasn't oblivious to the sudden tension, or the fact that the two had yet to release each other's hands, but he cleared his throat and ignored it. "I'll have my assistant contact you with possible days for the tour. Thank you again for an amazing dinner."

"It was my pleasure," Kurt said sincerely. He looked at Blaine and almost got lost in his scent again. "And I look forward to seeing you both soon."

Charles chuckled and had to practically drag Blaine to the waiting car, finally breaking contact between the alpha and omega. Once outside and away from Kurt's scent, Blaine seemed to come back to himself. He gave Kurt a sheepish grin and waved before disappearing into the passenger seat.

Kurt stood at the door and watched the car disappear down the drive, and then he stood there for a few minutes longer wondering what had just happened.

GLEE

Kurt spent a restless night considering everything that had happened since he had first seen Blaine Anderson on his front porch. In the end, he was confused. He had never had such a strong reaction to an omega before. And despite the fact that he lived in a relatively small town in Ohio, he had met his fair share of omegas. In college, he had even had more than a few try to tempt him into bonding, but he had never been drawn to them the way he was to Blaine.

The next morning, after setting up the tour with Charles' assistant and the property agent, Kurt sat back in his office chair and sighed. His mind wasn't going to let this go until he could understand it better. So he let his assistant, Tonya, know that he was going out for lunch and headed into town. Once in Lima, Kurt stopped at his father's favorite deli for sandwiches.

"What's the occasion?" Burt Hummel asked his son even as he munched on his hoagie. There was no way he was going to pass up the rare treat of Kurt allowing him to eat deli meat without a lecture on the evils of sodium, triglycerides, and cholesterol. One little scare with his heart when Kurt was in high school and the boy never let him eat fun foods again. And he had enlisted Carole into his campaign.

Kurt meanwhile was picking at his own sandwich. He shrugged, making Burt sit up and take notice. Kurt was not one to beat around the bush. "I met an omega last night and it was... weird."

"Weird how?" Burt asked carefully.

Kurt shrugged again. "It was all pretty normal for most of the evening. We talked. I didn't talk to him more than I talked with his father, who was there for business. He was pleasant and charming and pleasant to look at, but nothing... special. I knew he was an omega, because of the smell thing."

"That's gotta be weird," Burt opined. It was a topic father and son had discussed several times. Burt, as a beta, didn't really understand how scenting worked.

"It's not," Kurt told him. "It's no different than any other smell, you just can't smell it."

Not wanting to get too far off topic, Burt prompted, "So you smelled him and knew he was an omega?"

"Yeah, but just peripherally," Kurt said. "It was just another of a long list of facts about him that I catalogued. It wasn't significant. At least until he shook my hand before they left."

"And that changed things," Burt said with a nod and then finished off his sandwich.

"I couldn't let go of him," Kurt said. "And suddenly we're both putting out pheromones like crazy. His father had to drag him away."

"So what's the problem?" Burt asked. "Sounds like you met a potential mate to me. Isn't that what all those romantic movies you watched as a kid were about?"

Kurt frowned. "Not really. I mean, yeah, they were about mates meeting, but... not like that dad. Shouldn't I have known right away? In those movies, they always know as soon as their eyes meet. We talked for hours and nothing happened until we shook hands."

"Kurt, you can't take those movies at face value," Burt sighed. "Life really isn't like the movies."

"Okay," Kurt reluctantly agreed. "I can set aside the delayed reaction, but that doesn't... We reacted, but then I let him go. I let his father drag him away. Wouldn't I be more possessive if he is meant to be my mate?"

Burt paused for a minute to consider his answer before speaking. "I can't speak to alpha instincts, but I can tell you that there's no right or wrong way to fall for a person. With your mother, it was a long slow process. We grew up together and knew each other for years before either of us ever even considered the other in a romantic way. With Carole, it was a lot quicker. The issue isn't how you met or how you reacted in those first moments. The issue is, now that you do recognize the potential there, how you handle whatever comes next."

Kurt considered his words as they finished their lunch.

GLEE


	23. Blind Roommate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt answers an ad for a roommate and finds Blaine.

Kurt answered the ad on Craig's List for a roommate with no small measure of trepidation. He had been looking for a place to live for almost a month already and every listing so far had been a total failure. He had met more crazy people than he could count and seen more dumps the size of a closet than he cared to remember. He really hoped that this one was different, but wasn’t getting his hopes up.

The ad had said, “Roommate sought” which, in itself was different enough from most of the ads to catch Kurt’s eye; most ads used words like wanted or needed, not sought. It went on, “Roommate sought to share a generous apartment in Upper West Side. Quiet and tidy preferred. Must love dogs. No smokers, please.” And then it listed a rent that was extremely reasonable. He wasn't thrilled with the dog part, but Kurt figured he could live with it. He would buy a few extra lint rollers and hope the dog was well trained and stayed off the furniture.

When Kurt had called, the man who answered had sounded sane and intelligent, though Kurt was going to reserve judgment until he had a chance to actually meet him. Most of the people he had met before had sounded sane over the phone, too, but had shown their true colors in person.

The building was a much nicer place than Kurt would have guessed from the rent listed. In fact, it had a doorman, a security desk, and he could see a workout facility down the hall while he waited for security to call up to the apartment. He listened to the one-sided conversation and got the impression that he was being inspected before being allowed up, though the security guard only gave one word answers.

When the security guard let him go up, Kurt felt like he had passed the first test and was pleased. He rode the elevator up to the seventeenth floor and straightened his vest and tie in the reflective black walls of the car. When it arrived on the top floor, he followed the security guard’s directions to apartment 17A. Actually, it wasn’t that hard to find since it appeared to be one of only three apartments on the top floor, and it took up the entire front half of the building while the other two appeared to split the rear. Kurt was happy to note that the halls were clean and well kept. The trash chute and recycling room just across from the elevator was sparkling clean, a first in Kurt’s experience. And there was a good sized laundry room that served just that floor.

A knock and the door was suddenly swinging open to reveal a young man about his own age with short dark hair and the most vivid hazel eyes Kurt had ever seen. His hair was slicked back like a 50's TV star and he was dressed dapperly in a grey sweater vest, a checkered red shirt and a red bow tie with blue and green polka dots. And yet, somehow, Blaine pulled all those pieces together without looking like somebody's grandfather. It helped that his pants, bright red, were as sleekly cut as Kurt's own and totally on trend. In all, if Kurt had met him in a social setting, he would have asked for his number. 

“Hi, you must be Kurt.”

Kurt took the offered hand and said, “I am. And you must be Blaine.”

“Well, come on in and let me give you the grand tour,” Blaine said with an infectious grin that brought out an answering smile from Kurt.

That smile turned to a frown when he realized that Blaine wasn't actually looking at him. His face was directed Kurt's way, but his eyes seemed to drift a little aimlessly. Kurt's suspicions were confirmed when Blaine turned around and used his hand to guide himself along the short hallway. 

Blaine was blind. That explained the note about the dog in the ad. While they toured the apartment, which really was much larger than Kurt had imagined, Kurt considered the implications of having a blind roommate. It didn't take him long to conclude that it wasn't really a concern for him. He might need to make a few adjustments, but ultimately, he would need to make adjustments to any new roommate. So, with a shrug, Kurt concentrated on the things Blaine was showing him.

The entryway had a half bath on one side and a coat closet on the other and led to a large open living space that was easily larger than the entire apartment where he was currently living, and they had three people living there besides him. The kitchen was modern and filled with stainless steel appliances and granite counters. It also had a professional grade gas stove and a huge refrigerator. In other words, it was Kurt's dream kitchen. The dining area was beside the kitchen and had a great view of the Empire State Building in the distance. 

The living area was filled with modern furniture that, again, Kurt loved; up to and including the huge flat panel television. Off of the living room, there was a room that looked like it had been designated a music room complete with a concert grand piano.

The private spaces were separated by the public space and Blaine took Kurt to see the master suite first. It was absolutely huge. The first room they came to was set up as a private office and sitting area with windows overlooking the street below. Next was the walk-in closet and master bathroom. Kurt would kill for that closet, and even some of the clothes hanging inside it. 

The bedroom was last and Kurt was almost immediately greeted by a large chocolate labrador retriever.

"That's Max," Blaine said with a smile. "He's my helper and my best friend."

"He's adorable," Kurt said as he squatted to scratch Max's ears.

When Kurt stood back up and finally looked around the room, he was amazed at how much light the two walls of windows let into the room. Because they were so high up in a neighborhood that didn’t have many tall buildings, they had windows on three sides of the apartment. Finally, there was a small terrace out the front of the bedroom, overlooking the street below and to the east, Kurt could make out Central Park, just two blocks away.

Then they went to the other private space. Kurt was shocked to see that it was almost identical to the master suite. The rooms were slightly narrower, but only by about a foot or so. And there was plenty of space for him to both work and live. He would probably use the back room for his studio and use the larger front room for his bedroom, as Blaine had. He could even sketch and work on the terrace in warm weather. And he would have plenty of room to store his fabrics and other necessities. 

Suddenly, a very sobering thought hit him. “The rent listed in the ad has to be a mistake,” Kurt said.

“No, I don’t believe it is,” Blaine said in his very proper way.

“But…”

Blaine sighed. “Perhaps I should explain. Why don’t we have some refreshments and talk in the other room?”

“Okay,” Kurt agreed, though some part of him was weeping. Of course there was a catch. Of course this was too good to be true. Kurt sat at the breakfast bar and watched as Blaine put together a tea tray and a plate of shortbread cookies that looked to be imported from Scotland. 

Every move Blaine made seemed to be carefully orchestrated and almost rehearsed. It was interesting to watch him maneuver around the kitchen with ease, and yet so carefully. 

Once everything had been set in place and the tea was steeping in the elegant china pot with a pattern of roses, Blaine carefully picked up the tray and carried it to the living area and set it down on the coffee table, or tea table Kurt supposed.

“Milk and sugar?” Blaine asked.

“Yes please,” Kurt said and watched as Blaine carefully poured a splash of milk into both tea cups and then added sugar to one. Then he picked up the pot and poured tea into each cup before handing one to Kurt. Kurt took a sip and was amazed. “Thank you. It's delicious.”

“I found this great tea shop down in SoHo a while back. I get all my tea from them now,” Blaine said and then took a sip of his own tea. “Okay, so where was I? Oh yeah. I was explaining why I’m only asking for $1,000 a month in rent. Well, you see, when I first purchased this place, it was with the intention of living alone. I had just received a small inheritance from my grandmother and wanted to move away from home. So I bought this place. But I quickly realized that I hadn't taken into account the cost of condo fees or taxes. So I decided to rent out the other room. I basically set the rent to cover those costs. I don't want or need more than that. But what I do want is a roommate who isn't crazy.”

He paused to take a bite of shortbread and moaned softly in appreciation. Kurt grinned and took a cookie himself. After one bite, he had to agree that they were definitely moan-worthy.

“The first time the ad ran, I set the rent lower and got all sorts of insane people,” Blaine continued. “So I pulled the ad and ran it again a couple months later, this time asking for a lot more money. That time I got some real assholes that seemed to think that paying rent gave them cause to tell me how to live my life. And of course, there were the people who were just plain weird about my blindness. So this time, I split the difference and I’ve been a lot choosier who I let see the place.”

“I can certainly understand that,” Kurt said mildly. “I've met a lot of insane people in my search for a place to live. So I guess the question is am I too crazy or too arrogant?”

Blaine laughed. “Well, if I thought you were either I wouldn’t have invited you to stay for tea. Plus, Max likes you, and that means a lot. So, I think we should talk a little bit, get to know each other, and figure out if we could actually live together. After all, you could think I’m the nutcase and are just too polite to say so.”

Kurt smiled. He really liked this guy. “I’ll let you know.”

They spent the next couple hours talking about who they were, where they were from and what they did for a living. Kurt told Blaine about Ohio, about being bullied in high school for being gay, about his dreams of being on Broadway, about finding out quickly that NYADA wasn't the school for him and changing dreams, about going to Parsons for design and working at Vogue. 

In turn, Blaine told Kurt about how he had been bashed after a school dance, resulting in his lost sight, about how his parents had wanted to lock him away and keep him safe, about how his mother had insisted on driving to and from school every day, in both high school and college, and about finally demanding the freedom to live his own life.

"I just couldn't take their constant hovering anymore," Blaine sighed. "My father said I was being ungrateful. My mother just cried for weeks. I've been here for almost six months, and I haven't heard from them at all. My brother says they ask him about me, but they won't take my calls."

"I'm sorry," Kurt said sympathetically and laid a comforting hand over Blaine's.

Blaine smiled sadly. "I don't think they ever got over me telling them I'm gay. They just sort of ignored it, and me, after I told them. Then the bashing happened and they felt guilty and spent years trying to make themselves feel better. I'm not trying to be ungrateful. I'm just trying to live my life. And I couldn't do that, locked away in their house."

“How old are you?” Kurt asked curiously.

“Twenty-four,” Blaine said. “I’ll be 25 in a few weeks. March 21st. Why?”

“Just wondering,” Kurt said. “I thought we were about the same age, but then when you talk, you sound so much older, like you have lived through a lot more than most people our age.”

“A lot like you, I would expect,” Blaine said. “You are about my age, right?”

“Twenty-five,” Kurt confirmed.

Blaine nodded thoughtfully. “Listen, Kurt, I think I know enough now to say that I really think we could not only live together, but maybe even be friends.”

“I don’t really have many friends who speak to me these days, so I would really like that,” Kurt said. “As for living together, I can’t imagine wanting to live anywhere else as much. I would commit treasonous acts for that closet, Blaine. Treason.”

Blaine laughed. "I'll keep that in mind if I ever need anyone to commit treason for me. But until then, why don't you add your number to my phone and we can make plans for when you want to move in."

Kurt accepted the phone he was handed and talked while he entered his information. "I'd like to move as soon as possible. I've been sharing a loft out in Bushwick, but the space was meant for one or two people. Currently there are four of us living there."

Blaine's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "How did that happen?"

Kurt sighed. "Well, it was just me and Rachel to start with. Then Santana, one of our friends from high school decided to move in with us 'just until she could find a place'. That was six years ago. It was crazy, but we somehow made it work. Then, a few months ago, Rachel decided to move in her current boyfriend, who both Santana and I hate with a fiery passion. It caused a huge fight that brought up all of the old arguments we’ve been avoiding for six years and now none of us are speaking to each other."

"I'm sorry," Blaine said, echoing Kurt's earlier comfort.

Kurt sighed. "I figure that the only way we're ever going to mend things is if we aren't all living there anymore. I'm pretty sure Santana is going to move in with her current girlfriend. Then Rachel can have the place to herself, along with Jesse St. Jerk."

“Well, I would offer to help you move, but…” Blaine shrugged. “I’m not much help with things like that. What I can do is make sure that the freight elevator is free, that security is aware of your move and there is nothing in the way whenever you want to move.”

“How’s Saturday?” Kurt said. 

“Sounds perfect,” Blaine said with a smile.

Part Two

Telling Santana and Rachel of his impending move was hard. Rachel cried and Santana scowled. But at least they were all speaking to each other. 

“Maybe this really is for the best,” Rachel said sadly after they had eaten their way through three pints of ice cream. “This place is just not big enough for four people.”

Santana snorted. “It’s not big enough for three people. Which is why I’ve decided to follow Hummel’s lead and move out. Natalie has been asking me to move in for a while, I just… wasn’t ready.”

“But you are now?” Rachel asked, unsure whether to be sad for herself or happy for her friend.

Santana shrugged. “I guess I am. Here’s the deal, Hummel: I help you move your shit this weekend, and you help me when I’m ready to go.”

“Okay,” Kurt agreed.

“Jesse and I will help too,” Rachel said in a chipper tone.

Santana and Kurt both groaned. “Really Rachel?”

Rachel huffed. “Okay fine. I’ll help and I’ll make sure Jesse is not in the way.”

“Deal,” Kurt said happily.

“And we all have to agree to meet up at least once a week,” Rachel said. “Maybe Sundays for brunch?”

“No earlier than eleven,” Santana stated firmly. “I am not getting my ass out of bed early on a weekend. And make it every other weekend. Every week is a bit much. I’m sure that we’ll see each other more often than that, anyway.”

“Agreed,” Kurt said.

“So tell us about the guy you’re moving in with,” Santana said.

Kurt smiled. “Blaine is great.”

“Elaborate,” Rachel said as she got up and went to the freezer for the last pint of ice cream.

“Hmmm,” Kurt hummed thoughtfully. “Well, he’s 24 years old. He has dark curly hair that he tames into submission with more gel than is necessary. He seems a bit old fashioned in his dress, and yet he pulls it off with style.”

“Of course you base your judgment on his clothes,” Santana snarked. “What’s his ass like? Any chance of getting more than just a room from the arrangement?”

Kurt blushed hotly. “Listen Satan, you had better not say or do anything to embarrass Blaine when you meet him or I will find a way to make you pay.”

“So that’s a yes,” Santana said smugly. “He’s hot and you want in his pants.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Fine, yes he is hot. His ass is amazing and he knows how to show it off. But I am not going to jeopardize the perfect living arrangement for sex.”

“What could possibly be worth passing up an opportunity for hot sex?” Santana scoffed.

“You’ll know when you see this apartment,” Kurt said. “The size and the windows and the closet... God, I would do very bad things for that closet.”

“And we’re back to the clothes,” Rachel sighed. “You know, I do believe that it’s a good thing you changed careers, Kurt. Your priorities are definitely skewed.”

BKBKBKBKBK

“Okay, I concede,” Blaine heard one of Kurt’s friends mutter when they arrived on Saturday. “Even I would probably give up sex for this place. Holy shit, Hummel. How do you always luck into this stuff?”

“It’s my due,” Kurt told her darkly. “After years of living through hell daily, the universe is finally giving me a break.”

“Hi,” Blaine said when he exited his suite of rooms. “I’m Blaine and this is Max.”

“Is that…?” another female voice started and then Blaine heard her yelp. He held back a laugh, knowing that Kurt had probably stopped his friend from saying something offensive.

“Yes, I’m blind,” Blaine said. “And yes, Max is my helper and companion. Some people call him a seeing-eye dog, but I think that name is stupid.”

“You have an amazing apartment,” the girl said meekly.

“Thanks,” Blaine said. “And you are?”

“Oh sorry,” Kurt rushed to apologize. “My manners are horrible. Blaine, these are my friends and former roommates: Rachel Berry and Santana Lopez. They decided to help me move.”

“It’s lovely to meet both of you,” Blaine said. “I would love to stick around and help, but I got a call from work and need to go in for a few hours.”

“That’s okay,” Kurt said. “Hopefully, by the time you get back, we’ll have everything done and you won’t have to worry about us being in your way.”

“It’s no problem,” Blaine said. “This is your home now too. See you later.”

Blaine walked down the hallway, but he could hear the girls turning on Kurt, even though they were trying to be quiet.

Santana said, “Sure, Hummel, we got to hear what style of pants the boy wears and how he styles his hair, but you couldn’t tell us that he’s blind?”

Blaine chuckled to himself and closed the front door behind him.

BKBKBKBKBK

Kurt was grateful for his friends’ help with the move, but spending all day with Rachel and Santana was enough to confirm how happy he was to be moving away from them. He loved them both dearly, for very different reasons, but he needed some space from their collective crazy after so long. It didn’t help matters when the girls kept asking Kurt questions that he couldn’t answer. He realized that he knew next to nothing about his new roommate.

So, once the girls were gone, Kurt looked through the cupboards in the kitchen and then went to the grocery store a couple blocks away for a few things. Then he set about cooking dinner for the two of them. He hoped Blaine would want to join him, but if he wasn’t home in time, or had plans or something, Kurt could just save the extras and eat them another time.

Blaine might have looked quite competent making tea the other day, but Kurt soon realized that he couldn’t have been doing much in the way of cooking. There were a few necessities, but Kurt found that he had to dig into his boxes for his sauté pan and a whisk and even a colander. Blaine didn’t have any of those things. He didn’t have a cheese grater. There were only two pans in the cupboard. Well, at least Kurt wouldn’t have to struggle to fit his equipment in with Blaine’s since those cupboards were practically empty.

Kurt was just finishing up the béchamel sauce when Blaine and Max came through the door. As soon as Blaine unhooked Max from his harness, he trotted over to greet Kurt. Kurt smiled down at the dog and scratched his ears before sneaking him a small piece of chicken.

“Something smells marvelous,” Blaine said as he came to sit at the breakfast counter, across from where Kurt was working.

“I’m making savory crepes,” Kurt said. “The pancetta, mushroom and spinach stuffing is ready. The crepes are warming in the oven. And the béchamel sauce is just now finished. All that’s left is putting everything together. Oh, I never thought to ask if you’re vegan or have allergies or something.”

Blaine shook his head. “No allergies and I love steak too much to give it up without a fight. Can I do anything to help?”

Kurt hummed thoughtfully. “Well, you can grab the wine from the fridge and pour. The glasses are already on the table along with the flatware and napkins.”

Blaine made his way around the counter and headed for the fridge. Opening a bottle of wine was something he had long ago perfected. Soon enough, he had poured two glasses of white wine and took his seat just as Kurt brought over their plates.

“It smells wonderful,” Blaine said. “Would you mind… telling me what’s where? It makes eating a little easier.”

“Oh! Of course,” Kurt said. “Well, there are two crepes to the left of the plate. They’re rolled and covered with the béchamel sauce, and I sprinkled a little chopped green onion and cilantro on the top. They take up about two thirds of the plate. The right side has an asparagus salad; tomatoes, asparagus, green onions and cilantro tossed in a light vinaigrette and topped with a little feta cheese.”

“Thanks,” Blaine said. He took a bite of crepe and moaned with absolute pleasure. “Oh my god. That is amazing.” He took a bite of the salad and couldn’t hold back his praise. “This is all so good. How do you do that?”

“Cooking isn’t hard,” Kurt said with a shrug. “It’s just a matter of knowing how flavors combine and how certain things react when you put them together.”

“I’m lucky if I can heat up soup without a disaster,” Blaine admitted. “I doubt it would be any different if I could see. My family had a housekeeper who did most of the cooking. And when she didn’t, we ordered out a lot. I’m pretty sure my mother can’t cook. Anyway, I’ve spent six months living off of things I can make without cooking. I eat out a lot and order in a lot. I eat a lot of fresh fruits and veggies, toast and brie, things like that.”

"My mom died when I was eight,” Kurt said. “She taught me some things. Once she was gone, it quickly became apparent that my father was not a cook. The first Saturday after the funeral, after all the relatives had gone home, he tried to make grilled cheese and tomato soup. It was supposed to be comfort food. It took him three tries to get one grilled cheese that wasn’t completely charred. And the tomato soup was scorched. Plus, he kept swearing and I think he burnt himself a half dozen times. The next day, I convinced him to let me make a pot roast with onions and potatoes and carrots. It’s a pretty simple meal, but turned out great. It was obvious to both of us that of the two of us, I was definitely the better cook, so I took over cooking duties.”

“Well, I have to tell you that I think it’s pretty amazing,” Blaine said. “After the incident that left me blind, I had to go through all this occupational therapy and training to help me learn to deal with my limitations. One of the things they tried to teach me was how to cook. I can now slice, dice, and julienne with the best, but keep me away from open flames.”

“Well then, You can make the salad next time,” Kurt said playfully. “And maybe I could teach you a few small tricks that would make cooking easier. I eventually taught my dad how to make a soufflé. I swear to you, if he can learn, anyone can.”

Blaine grinned. “I’m always up for a challenge. But I will warn you that the occupational therapist gave up after only three lessons. And she’s trained to be patient with people like me.”

“Ah, but she’s not trained to cook,” Kurt said. 

After dinner, Blaine insisted on helping with cleanup. So while Kurt carried the dishes from the table, Blaine rinsed and put them into the dishwasher. Then he insisted that Kurt sit, while Blaine washed the pans by hand. 

“I realized today that we really don’t know much about each other,” Kurt said as he poured more wine into both of their glasses. “You said you had to go into work, but I have no idea what you do for a living.”

“Well, I… I write and arrange music,” Blaine explained hesitantly as he joined Kurt in the living room. “For whoever needs my services. I started before I moved here, but the work has really gotten better now that I can be on-site. I write music for commercials sometimes and I’ve done work with some shows. Today, I was needed to rework one of my arrangements for a show.”

“Oh? Which one?” Kurt asked with enthusiasm.

“The new Queen tribute,” Blaine said. “It was the first big commission I got. The producer is friends with a commercial director I’ve worked with a few times, so… Anyway, when they decided to put on yet another show using the music of a musical legend, they asked me.”

“What exactly was the problem?” Kurt asked.

“They want to add in a dance sequence into Don’t Stop Me,” Blaine sighed. “I had to basically add in about five minutes worth of music into a song that is already four minutes long. But, I think the music director, the director, the choreographer and the producers were all pleased in the end. Hopefully that will be the last major change. Previews are scheduled for next week. You want to go with me to the opening preview?”

“I’d love to,” Kurt said enthusiastically. “I usually prefer the more traditional Broadway offerings, but the guy playing lead is incredible. I saw him in Book of Mormon and Hair.”

“He does have a great voice,” Blaine conceded. “I couldn’t tell you much else. I don’t interact much with the cast. But they’re planning a party for after the show. We could go, if you’re really interested.”

“I would love to,” Kurt said. “So, how did you get started writing commercial jingles?”

Blaine chuckled self-deprecatingly. “My brother is the king of commercial actors. He was doing a flower commercial and the guy writing the jingle backed out on them. So Cooper talked me up. Never mind that I was just a sophomore in college at the time and rarely left the house unless my mother was driving me to classes. They were desperate, however, and gave me an idea what they wanted. A week later, I gave them back a 30 second score. Things kind of took off from there.”

“Your brother is a commercial actor?” Kurt asked. “I mean… is that…”

“If you ask Cooper, he’s the best actor ever,” Blaine said. “In truth, he kind of sucks. But he looks pretty and people seem to respond to his charm. So he gets a lot of commercial work.”

“He’s the Free Credit Report Today guy, isn’t he?” Kurt laughed. “I think I can see the family resemblance.”

Blaine nodded. “He’s done the credit report spots for years. He also did that series of flower commercials.”

“The one where the husband is an idiot and keeps forgetting things like birthdays and anniversaries?” Kurt said. “I hadn’t put the two together, but yeah, now that you mention it, I guess it is the same guy.”

“He’s done toothpaste and soap commercials,” Blaine said. “And cereal and dozens of others that I can’t remember off the top of my head. Cooper’s kind of an idiot, but he’s endearing. And he got me work, which in turn enabled me to finally move away from home, so I can’t be too hard on him.”

“My stepbrother was an idiot too,” Kurt sighed. “But, also endearing. He could be so offensive at times, but never intentionally. He just didn’t get it. Then he would be all apologetic once my dad or his mom explained just why what he said was offensive.”

“Does he live around here?” Blaine wondered.

“No, he died a year after we graduated from high school,” Kurt sighed. “It was really hard on both Carole and my dad. And Rachel. She and Finn were engaged at one point. They had broken up for a while, but everyone, including them, expected that they would get back together before long.”

“I’m sorry,” Blaine said.

Kurt shook his head and smiled sadly. “It was a long time ago. So, I’m ready for more wine. You?”

“Just one more glass,” Blaine said. “Any more and I’ll have a massive headache in the morning.”

Kurt got up and went to get the bottle from the refrigerator. He emptied the last of the bottle between their two glasses and then returned to the sofa. They sat facing each other, but not too close.

“So, I told you what I do for a living, but you haven’t told me about your job,” Blaine said after taking a sip of his wine.

“Well, I told you about my aspirations to go to NYADA,” Kurt said. “And how once I got there, things weren’t what I dreamed they would be. In the meantime, I got a paid internship at Vogue, working for Isabelle Wright. I like to call her my fairy godmother. She hired me and convinced me that I could have a real career in fashion. So I dropped out of NYADA after one semester and applied to Parsons. Isabelle was instrumental in getting me accepted and then worked with the school to get my hours at Vogue to count as credits.”

“She sounds amazing,” Blaine said. “I followed her work avidly before… but I still read some of her articles.”

“She is amazing,” Kurt agreed. “I worked for her all through school. I even wrote a few small articles. After I graduated, she started putting the word around about the most amazing designer she knows. Coming from her, people sat up and listened. I landed a job with Christine Morgan, designing a menswear line.”

“Oh my god, you design CM for Men?” Blaine asked. “I may not be able to see the fashion shows anymore, but I can read the reviews, and I can feel the quality of the work you do when I shop. You are very good.”

“Thank you,” Kurt said with a blush. “I did notice that you are wearing one of my sweaters today.”

“There aren’t many days when I don’t wear something from your collection,” Blaine said. “But wait. I may not know much about how the fashion industry works, but if you’re heading your own line, shouldn’t you be able to afford your own place?”

Kurt sighed. “Technically, I could. But I’ve been saving up for years. A large percentage of my money goes into investment accounts. I want to start my own line, but I’ll need both a reputation and capital to pull it off. A couple more years, and I’ll have enough of both to launch my own line. In the meantime, I’ve been saving some of my best work back.”


	24. Ships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt and Blaine have one night together before Blaine goes off to school in England. But one night is enough to change both of their lives. 
> 
> Mpreg.

Part One

The party was unlike anything that Kurt had ever been to before. Sure, he had heard about the keggers that often took place in Lima, with students from OSU-Lima and sometimes the more popular high school students, but those were nothing compared to this insanity. Kurt had even been to a few drinking parties with his glee friends, but none of them were anything like this. And even four years of college, where he was finally accepted as more than just the gay kid, had not prepared him for a party like this.

At first it had all seemed so glamorous and elegant. When Kurt had arrived, he had seen beautiful people in beautiful outfits eating expensive catered hors d’oeuvres. They were sipping champagne and talking politely about fashion and fame. But as the night wore on, the drinks got more potent and the music louder. Then Kurt noticed that people were slipping away to private corners. It didn’t take long to figure out that there were drugs and sex happening just beyond the lights of the main room.

“I think this is getting a little out of hand,” a voice said from Kurt’s shoulder. He turned to see one of the most beautiful men he had ever met and he was looking at Kurt with a light of intense interest that had become somewhat familiar since Kurt had moved to New York.

“Not really my scene,” Kurt admitted before taking a nervous sip of his champagne.

“Mine either,” the man said. “I’m Blaine.”

Blaine was easily as beautiful as any of the male models that were currently roaming through the loft apartment, but both his height and his demeanor told Kurt that this was not a man who got paid to look pretty. 

“I’m Kurt,” Kurt said and held out his hand.

“Well, Kurt, if this really isn’t your scene, perhaps you would like to join me for coffee,” Blaine said with a charming smile. “I know a great shop that stays open all night nearby. We could talk without having to shout over the music and not worry about anyone slipping something into our drinks.”

Kurt had to chuckle at that. He had been hyper aware of who had access to his drink all night. “Sure. I think I’d like that.”

It only took a few minutes to collect their coats and head out. The January air, when they stepped outside, was like an arctic blast. But it felt good after the oppressive heat and press of bodies in the loft. Blaine led the way towards 7th Avenue and then they headed up a few blocks before finding the coffee shop Blaine had mentioned. Blaine asked for Kurt’s order and stood in line while Kurt found them seats. The shop actually reminded Kurt of the coffee shop on Friends, with sofas and comfortable seating areas rather than uncomfortable tables and chairs. He found that one of the sofas was empty, so he claimed it for them.

Blaine returned a few minutes later with their drinks and took the seat beside Kurt. They were far enough apart not to seem overly-familiar, but closer than Kurt would normally sit with a perfect stranger. While their coffees cooled enough to drink they continued to chat about inconsequential things like the weather.

“So, if that’s not your scene, why were you there tonight?” Blaine asked after they had run out of small talk.

Kurt sighed and took a sip of his drink before answering. “It’s sort of complicated. Officially, I was there to discuss business with one of the models. Unofficially, I was there because my boss and fairy godmother, Isabelle, thinks I need to get out more. I think she was hoping I would met the man of my dreams.”

Blaine smirked. “And did you?”

Kurt raised a perfectly groomed brow. “I’ll get back to you on that. What about you? What were you doing there?”

“You don’t think I could be one of the fabulously vapid models?” Blaine pouted.

Kurt chuckled. “Fabulous, yes. Vapid, no. And no on the model too, though you are quite attractive. Pardon my candor, but you’re too short to ever be a professional model.”

Blaine laughed loudly at that. “It’s a good thing I’m not self-conscious about my height. But I think maybe there was a compliment hidden in there somewhere, so thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome,” Kurt said smugly.

“And to answer your question, my brother likes to think he’s an actor/model,” Blaine said. “Mostly, he’s just done a few cheesy commercials and a couple catalogue shoots. But he’s convinced his big break is just around the corner, so he goes to parties like that to network. Or that’s what he calls it. Since I was in town, I got dragged along.”

“Lucky you,” Kurt said wryly.

“Actually, I consider myself very lucky,” Blaine said earnestly. “I met you there.”

Kurt blushed and cursed his fair skin. “Thank you.”

“So, you said you were there for work,” Blaine said, changing the subject back to safer ground for the time being. “What do you do?”

“I’m a designer,” Kurt said. “Actually, I’m an assistant designer for Isabelle Wright, but she’s trying to help me launch my own line.”

“That explains the fairy godmother descriptor,” Blaine said.

Kurt nodded. “I met her right after I came to New York for college. She hired me as an intern and I’ve worked my way up through the ranks over the past seven years. And all the while, I’ve been working on my own designs, just waiting for the right time and opportunity to come along. A few months ago, Isabelle found my personal portfolio and had a fit. She kept going on about how I was wasting my talent designing blouses for her when I should be producing my own menswear.”

“If the outfit you’re wearing tonight is any indication of what you can produce, I have to say that I agree with her,” Blaine said. 

Kurt bit his lip and glanced down at the bright, aqua shark-skin suit he was wearing. “Actually, this is mine. Anyway, Isabelle has been working with her backers and has even offered to put her own money up to help me get started. I’m set to launch my first fall line in a few weeks. If it’s successful, I’ll be able to leave my assistant job and concentrate full time on my own line.”

“That’s a pretty exciting place to be,” Blaine said. “Congratulations. And I know you’ll be successful.”

“You can’t know that,” Kurt scoffed.

“I can so,” Blaine countered. “Because I can see just how talented you are, and I can tell how determined you are to succeed. Anyone who can work their way up from the bottom so quickly in their field is definitely going to go places. And then I’ll be able to say: I knew him when….”

Kurt blushed again, but he was smiling. “What about you? You said you’re visiting your brother? Where do you live normally? What do you do for work?”

“Well, until December, I was working on my doctorate in music at Peabody,” Blaine said.

“Peabody, that’s part of Johns Hopkins, right?” Kurt asked.

“Yes,” Blaine said. “But I did my undergraduate work at Julliard, so I feel like a New Yorker when I’m able to visit.”

“I think I was born to be a New Yorker,” Kurt said.

“Where are you from originally?” Blaine asked. Almost everyone in New York was from somewhere else.

“Ohio,” Kurt said. “A homophobic little town called Lima.”

“Really?” Blaine asked with surprise. “I’m from Westerville, just north of Columbus.”

“I know where Westerville is,” Kurt said. “When things got really bad at school, my dad and stepmother considered sending me to a private school down there.”

“Dalton?” Blaine asked and Kurt nodded. “I went to Dalton.”

“Small world,” Kurt grinned.

“So, what happened that you didn’t go there?” Blaine asked.

“We couldn’t really afford it,” Kurt admitted. “That and the worst bully was actually closeted. He was outed and it got ugly. He tried to commit suicide and then his family moved away. But after he left, the rest of the jocks were afraid that if they harassed me too much people would think they were closeted too.”

“Wow,” Blaine said. “That’s… Things were bad for me before my parents sent me to Dalton, but… nothing like that.”

“We actually competed against Dalton,” Kurt said thoughtfully. “We went up against the Warblers my junior year at sectionals.”

Blaine’s eyes widened again. “I was in the Warblers. Wait, Lima… you were in the New Directions? I don’t remember you at that competition. And believe me, I would remember you.”

Kurt grinned. “I think I would have remembered you as well. But I wasn’t at that competition. That was when things were really bad and my dad was fighting with the school board about protecting students. Karofsky, the guy who was in the closet, had shoved me down the stairs and I was laid up for a while. I was out of school for six weeks. When I went back, things got a little better. The teachers actually patrolled the halls and then Karofsky… Anyway, I missed that competition, but heard about it from my friends in glee club. Rachel couldn’t stop gushing about their lead singer.”

It was Blaine’s turn to blush and Kurt noticed. “Don’t tell me that you…”

“Guilty,” Blaine admitted. 

“Wow,” Kurt said with a chuckle. “From the way Rachel described you, I never would have made the connection.”

“Well, I was a lot more…”

“Preppy?” Kurt supplied.

“I guess preppy is pretty accurate,” Blaine said. “But in my defense, I was going to a private boarding school. We were all preppy.”

“I guess that college loosened you up a bit,” Kurt said. “Though that bow tie is definitely a throwback.”

“Do not mock the bow tie,” Blaine said mock-seriously. “We must respect the bow tie.”

Kurt laughed outright at that. “Of course. Pardon my disrespect. But seriously, I like your style: you take elements of fashion that really aren’t trendy and make them work. Like that bow tie.”

“Thank you,” Blaine said with a smile.

“So, you’ve gotten your doctorate,” Kurt said. “What’s next?”

“Well, I was offered the chance to do a fellowship,” Blaine said. “It’s a joint program between Columbia and Oxford. So for the next six months, I’ll be in England. Then I’ll be at Columbia from September through June. After that… well, I guess I’ll figure that out when the time comes.”

“What exactly do you do with a fellowship?” Kurt asked. 

Blaine laughed. “Well, I’m not sure about other people, but I’ll spend some of my time teaching and some of my time composing music and some of my time researching the cultural relevance of various musical genres on the LGBT community in England and the US… basically, turning something fun into something boring.”

“Actually, it sounds very interesting,” Kurt said. “I know that music played a huge part in my life. I can imagine that it has done the same for others as well. It gave me hope that I wasn’t alone. It also gave me the confidence to stand up and be proud of who I am. Actually, it was both the music in general and the fact that I participated in glee club. I loved performing. I actually considered going into musical theater.”

“Why didn’t you?” Blaine asked.

Kurt shrugged. “Well, I actually applied to and auditioned for NYADA, but I was waitlisted. My best friend, Rachel, was accepted even though she choked at her audition and I totally aced mine. I actually impressed Carmen Tibideaux. So I called Madam Tibideaux to find out why I wasn’t accepted. She was very nice about it, but said that despite my talent, she could tell that my heart wasn’t totally in it. She said that she would like to see me perform with passion.”

Kurt shook his head at the memory. “I thought she was crazy at first. I loved to sing. But then I talked everything over with my dad and he pointed out a few things to me.”

“Like?” Blaine prompted.

Kurt smiled at him. “Like the fact that my most passionate performances were never the ones for other people. They were the ones I performed for me, because I had to get some emotion out. And as I thought about it, I realized he was right. I sang for me, not for other people. When I sang for other people, it was never as good. Music was my catharsis and my comfort, not my passion. And I realized that there were other things that I actually was passionate about, like fashion. So I thanked Madam Tibideaux for her help and applied to Parsons.”

“Do you ever sing now?” Blaine wondered.

“All the time,” Kurt said with a smile. “Despite my change in career plans, Madam Tibideaux, Carmen, wasn’t going to give up on hearing me sing with passion. She kept in touch and offered me private lessons. She has a lot of connections and every once in a while she asks me to do a favor for a friend and I end up singing at this concert or that showcase. And, once a month, I do a cabaret show at Callbacks.”

“Wow, really?” Blaine said. “I’ve seen some of the cabaret shows there and they are impressive. I mean, they get some of the best in the industry. How did you get a regular gig with them?”

Kurt nodded. “Well, it’s actually a funny story. When I first came to New York, Rachel and I moved into this ramshackle loft in Bushwick. Even though I wasn’t going to NYADA, I was dragged to NYADA parties and such with Rachel. And as you probably know, Callbacks has open mike nights, and the NYADA students, along with music students from most of the colleges in New York, all flock there for the chance to perform.”

“So your roommate brought you to Callbacks?” Blaine asked.

“Weekly,” Kurt said. “And every week, she would sing and then badger me to sing. And every week, I would refuse. But then I met Adam.”

“Ah, there was a boy,” Blaine said with a nod. “Boy’s make men like us do silly things.”

“Well, silly or not, I wanted to impress Adam,” Kurt said. “So I got up there and sang. I sang every week for four months. Adam wasn’t impressed but Tom, the owner, was. So, he offered to let me have a trial run. I was a nervous wreck that first night. Carmen actually showed up and sat right beside a terrified Rachel. But I was able to pull it together and afterwards, Tom offered me a regular gig and Carmen said I finally sang with passion. I think it’s because I had to make myself forget that anyone else was there in order to get through that first time. So I sang for me.”

“I would love to hear you sing,” Blaine admitted. 

“You can,” Kurt said. “I’m at Callbacks a week from Saturday.”

Blaine shook his head. “I’m leaving for England tomorrow night.”

“Oh,” Kurt said with disappointment. “So we only have tonight?”

Blaine nodded. “I’m sorry. I wish…”

“Well, you’ll be back in a few months,” Kurt said with determination. “We can write and Skype between now and then.”

“Definitely,” Blaine agreed eagerly.

“And we do still have tonight,” Kurt said shyly. “If you want to come back to my place with me…”

“Definitely,” Blaine repeated, but his voice was husky and a little nervous.

In no time, they were back on the street, hailing a cab and then heading to Kurt’s apartment. It wasn’t until they had reached the door to Kurt’s brownstone apartment in Chelsea that Kurt hesitated. He led Blaine inside and they stood in the narrow hallway just looking at each other.

“I don’t usually do this,” Kurt said.

“What?” Blaine asked.

“Sleep with a guy so soon after meeting him,” Kurt clarified. “My dad… we didn’t have a traditional sex talk when I was a teen, but what he said to me stuck with me.”

“What did he say?” Blaine asked.

“He said I matter,” Kurt said.

“He was right,” Blaine said quietly. “You do matter. And we don’t have to do anything tonight. We can sit up and talk all night. We can say goodbye here and now. Whatever you want. I just want to be with you. I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

“I know,” Kurt said. “I feel the same way. And I’m not saying…” Kurt paused and shook his head. “Blaine, I want you. I want you more than I think I’ve ever wanted anyone. I just need you to know that this isn’t a one-time thing for me. It can’t be.”

“No,” Blaine said. “I can’t imagine… I want so much more than one night with you.”

Kurt nodded and smiled. “In that case, the bedroom is this way.”

Part Two

The morning after their one night together, Kurt made waffles and the two men enjoyed a leisurely breakfast together before Blaine had to leave. He had to get back to his brother’s apartment and pack before his flight out. But they exchanged contact information and even before Blaine’s cab had made back to Cooper’s apartment, he had received a text from Kurt:

Is it weird that after only one night, I miss you already?

Blaine grinned and sent back:

Not to me. I miss you too.

That was the beginning of what soon became almost constant communication. If Blaine saw something new or exciting, his first thought was to share it with Kurt. If Kurt was having a hard day, he immediately sent Blaine a text. They met up on Skype as often as their busy schedules would allow. When the day of Kurt’s fashion show finally arrived in February, Blaine sent a steady stream of encouraging texts. And when the show was a success, Kurt sent Blaine links to all of the favorable reviews. 

Blaine sent pictures of himself in the academic robes that Oxford required their teachers to wear. Kurt sent pictures of his clothes. Blaine sent videos of his trips to London and bath and Stonehenge. Kurt sent videos of his cabaret performances at Callbacks. Kurt met Blaine’s graduate assistant by Skype. Blaine met Rachel the same way.

For several months, the two were as involved in each other’s lives as it was possible to be with an ocean between them.

And then Blaine started feeling sick. He woke up before his alarm clock each morning because his stomach was rebelling. But by lunchtime he felt fine, if tired. He didn’t say anything to Kurt about it. He didn’t want to worry him. After three weeks, however, he was still getting sick every morning and was so tired he actually fell asleep in the middle of a lecture that he was giving. Even Kurt had noticed that Blaine didn’t look well on their last Skype date. So Blaine sucked it up and headed to the clinic on campus the day after Hilary semester ended.

A couple hours later, Blaine left the clinic feeling like his world was turned upside down. He was pregnant. He hadn’t even known that he was a carrier. And the only time he’d had sex with anyone but his right hand in the last year had been with Kurt and they had used condoms. It seemed impossible that he could be pregnant. And yet there was the morning sickness and the fatigue and the heartburn.

Blaine walked back to his tiny flat on campus and flopped onto his bed. His mind was a jumble of thoughts and feelings and none of them were coherent enough to even begin sorting through them. The one thought that seemed to outweigh everything else, however was: I’m pregnant.

How would this affect his fellowship? How would this affect his body? How would this affect his life? How would this affect his burgeoning relationship with Kurt?

There were so many things to consider and as Blaine lay there in his darkening apartment, he couldn’t seem to find any answers to the million questions in his mind. So, with sudden determination, Blaine sat up, turned on his lamp, and booted up his laptop.

Blaine spent a couple hours Googling everything he could think of about male pregnancies. He found a website that took you through the stages of pregnancy week by week and soon got lost in all of the details it provided. He had just finished week 18 when the icon telling him that Kurt was calling on Skype began to flash. Without really thinking about it, he clicked to accept the call.

“Hey, you still look tired,” Kurt told him almost as soon as the video connected. “Maybe you should see a doctor.”

Blaine took a deep breath and said, “I did. Today. She…”

Kurt frowned with worry. “Blaine, you’re scaring me. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Blaine said. “Perfectly healthy. Just… pregnant.”

Kurt’s jaw dropped. “Did you say…?”

Blaine nodded. “Pregnant. I didn’t even know I’m a carrier. My parents… they never wanted me to be tested. And then I was at school and student health insurance doesn’t cover tests like that. So I never found out. I swear I didn’t know Kurt.”

“I…” Kurt swallowed hard. “Is it mine?”

“I haven’t been with anyone else in almost a year,” Blaine said. “Kurt, what am I gonna do?”

Kurt took a deep breath. “Well, I’m not sure, but we’ll figure it out together, right? Even if this wasn’t my baby, I’d be here for you. You’ve become my best friend, Blaine. No matter what you decide, I’m with you.”

“I wish you were here,” Blaine said.

“Me too,” Kurt said. “What did the doctor say?”

“Well, she said a lot actually,” Blaine said. “She explained my options with social health. Even though I’m not a British citizen, I can still access the health system as long as my work visa is valid. She referred me to an obstetrician and I have an appointment next week. She said if I want an abortion that it’s too late for a pill; I’d have to go through a procedure, but the obstetrician could explain that further. She also said that I would need to make a statement about how being pregnant would adversely affect my mental and emotional state.”

Kurt was quiet for a minute before he asked, “Do you want an abortion?”

Blaine blinked at Kurt as he considered the question. “I… I don’t think so. I honestly hadn’t even thought about it. I was just… you asked what the doctor said.”

Kurt let out the breath he had been holding. “Okay. Okay. So if you want to have the baby, then we need to consider a few things.”

“A lot of things,” Blaine said. “Like how am I going to afford health care once I’m back in the US? My fellowship gives me a pretty generous stipend, but not health insurance. I’m still on student health insurance.”

“I can put you on my insurance,” Kurt said. “I’ll put you down as my domestic partner, okay?”

“Is that… is that legal?” Blaine wondered.

“It is,” Kurt assured him. “You’ll just have to use my address as your primary residence for legal purposes.”

“That’s another thing,” Blaine said. “The fellowship includes campus housing, but I can’t live on campus with a baby. For one thing, there’s not enough room. Maybe I should just give up the fellowship and get a paying job. Or I could… I could ask my dad to release my trust fund early.”

“You could live with me,” Kurt offered tentatively. “I know that it would be really fast, but I feel like… maybe this is a sign.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in signs,” Blaine teased, feeling a little lighter already. 

“I never believed in love at first sight either, but meeting you changed a lot of things for me,” Kurt admitted.

“For me too,” Blaine said seriously. “And I think we should think about the living together thing for a while before we make any decisions. It is fast, but then again, we’re going to have a baby together.” He shrugged.

“We have three months before you get back from England,” Kurt said dryly. “I guess that question can wait a few days.”

“What I’m really not sure about is the fellowship,” Blaine said. “I mean, obviously, I’m going to finish up here in England. I made commitments to teach and to lead the research group over the break. They couldn’t find anyone to replace me on such short notice. But I checked an online calculator and if I conceived on January 12th, then I’ll be due on October 5th. That’s right in the middle of the fall semester.”

“Well, I can’t answer that for you, sweetie,” Kurt said. “All I can say is that you’ll have to talk to whoever is in charge of your fellowship. Maybe they make provisions. Maybe they’ll terminate the fellowship. You won’t know until you talk to them.”

“Dr. Charles won’t be in the office until Monday,” Blaine said. “I guess I’ll have to call him then.”

“If you’re due in October, then we have six and a half months to work everything out,” Kurt said. “That will be plenty of time. You don’t need all the answers right now, okay?”

“You’re telling me to be patient,” Blaine sighed. “I’m not good with patience. 

“I know,” Kurt said with a small chuckle. “But you’re going to have to be this time. There’s no way to speed up this process. A baby takes time to grow.”

Blaine shook his head, still feeling a little dazed. “I still can hardly believe that in a few months I’m going to be a parent.”

“Me neither,” Kurt admitted.

BKBKBKBKBK

That Skype session wasn’t the last time Kurt and Blaine talked about the pregnancy that weekend. In fact, they talked far longer than usual and almost exclusively about that singular topic. They didn’t make any more decisions, but talking things over really helped Blaine deal with the shock of the situation. 

Kurt, for his part was too busy dealing with Blaine’s feelings to really spend much time thinking about his own until he was on his way to work on Monday. He knew that for the brief moment that he thought Blaine wanted to terminate the pregnancy had been terrifying. He hadn’t even thought about the possibility of becoming a father, but in that moment, he wanted their child with everything in him. He would have supported Blaine’s right to choose, but he was overjoyed that Blaine had decided to keep the baby.

Kurt also knew that no matter how long he thought about it, he wouldn’t change his mind about wanting them to live together. If Blaine needed time to think, then he would give him time, but Kurt knew what he wanted. He had wanted it before he knew about the baby. He might have waited a few months before bringing the subject up to Blaine, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t started to think about it from that very first morning. He had loved waking up with Blaine and wanted to do so every day.

Kurt had always been guarded about letting people into his private spaces. There had only ever been one boyfriend who had seen the inside of Kurt’s home. Usually, Kurt preferred going to their place. Then he could leave when he wanted and he didn’t have to deal with them making judgments about his décor or snooping through Kurt’s life. But the thought had never crossed Kurt’s mind the night he met Blaine. It had seemed like the most natural thing in the world to invite Blaine into is home, into his world. He trusted that Blaine wouldn’t judge or snoop. And Kurt really felt like he had nothing to hide from Blaine. Whether you called it love at first sight or something else, it was an instant connection that had only gotten stronger since.

 

 

Timeline

January 12th: conception  
January 18th: Hilary semester at Oxford begins  
February 23rd: 8 weeks (morning sickness begins)  
March 9th: 10 weeks (baby's heart beats)  
March 15th: End of Hilary semester   
March 16th: 11 weeks (Blaine goes to doctor)   
April 13th: 15 weeks (baby sees light, morning sickness ends)  
April 27th: Trinity semester begins  
May 4th: 18 weeks (feel baby kick)  
May 11th: 19 weeks (tell gender)  
June 1st: 22 weeks  
June 21st: End of Trinity semester  
July 6th: 27 weeks (baby can breathe)  
August 10th: 32 weeks  
September 7th: 36 weeks  
October 5th due date


	25. Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt is seriously injured from bullying and is late starting college. But Blaine is happy to welcome him, late or not.

Blaine was in a rush as he headed down the marble staircase in the atrium. That was the only reason he didn’t see the beautiful boy at the bottom until he reached out and touched his arm. Any other time on any other day, Blaine would have been drawn to that perfect face and that perfect fashion and that perfect body like a moth to a flame. But on that particular day, he was running late for a concert being held for freshman orientation and only had eyes on the guy in front of him who was taking entirely too long to get out of Blaine’s way.

But that perfectly perfect boy did reach out and stopped Blaine and he finally saw what an angel must look like. The conversation that followed was short and rather nonsensical. The boy claimed to be a new student, but he was wearing a jacket Blaine recognized from the August edition of Vogue where they highlighted the fall trends. Students at Parks College of Fine and Dramatic Arts in Manhattan wore jeans and t-shirts or sweaters like every other college student in the country, even new students. But Blaine didn’t call him on it. Who knew the reasons this boy—Kurt—had for wandering around campus? Sure, he might be there to spy on the Noteworthy Gentlemen—the all-male acapella group that was putting on the concert—but it wasn’t like they had anything to hide—it wasn’t like they were a competitive group—so Blaine offered to show him the way to the Quad, a shortcut that wasn’t really a shortcut at all.

With a shared looked and smile, Blaine offered Kurt his hand. That was when he noticed the cane for the first time. Blaine’s fantasy of running hand in hand through the halls quickly vanished, but he didn’t really mind at all. Walking sedately, still hand in hand, was more dignified anyway. And perhaps someday, when Kurt felt a little more comfortable with Blaine, he might actually take Blaine’s arm for support and lean on him instead of the cane. That sounded even more romantic.

When they reached the Quad, Blaine left Kurt with a teasing remark about his obviously too-fashionable jacket and went to sing. And if he sang directly to Kurt, no one would be crass enough to point it out. And if he put just a little more emotion into the song than he would normally, it just made the song better, right?

BKBKBKBKBK

“So, it’s pretty obvious that you aren’t actually a student. Or at least not a typical student,” Blaine said over coffee after the concert. He wasn’t sure why Wes and David had decided to tag along, but it probably had something to do with the fact that they had caught some student from NYADA spying on them the semester before to see what sort of set list they were preparing for the inter-college concert they put on twice a year. Blaine didn’t really care. He just wished they would have left him alone with Kurt.

“Um, not yet,” Kurt said as he eyed Wes and David warily. “I was actually on a tour with Dean Hansen and my father, but we got separated and I found you guys. I should probably head back to the admissions office soon.”

“So, you aren’t here to spy?” Wes asked.

“No,” Kurt said with a frown. “Is that a problem you face regularly?”

David shrugged. “We’ve had one or two lately. We get pretty competitive with the NYADA students. With the winter concert coming up, it happens.”

Kurt shook his head. “I suppose I can see that. I was in the glee club at my old high school before… well, there was a guy that started dating our lead soloist and then broke her heart to try and sabotage us at regionals. And at sectionals, the opposing teams stole our set list and we were forced to come up with new songs at the last minute. But I can assure you I’m not here to spy. And I’m definitely not a NYADA student.”

“So you were in the glee club?” Blaine asked, trying to get more information about Kurt without prying too much.

Kurt nodded and took a sip of his coffee. “That was a while ago. I was home schooled for the last two years of high school because of my injuries and it’s taken me a while to get my father to consider letting me go off to college. Hence the last minute campus tour and individual attention from the Dean.”

Blaine looked a little uncertain, but he asked, “Do you mind if I ask… what happened?”

Kurt shrugged. “I was attacked by a group of jocks. One of them accused me of trying to kiss him and the rest believed him…” Kurt shook his head and shivered. “I woke up in the hospital more than a month later.” He paused and looked at the three boys across the table from him. “Can I ask… are any of you guys gay? Or do you know any student groups here for gay people?”

“David and I both have girlfriends,” Wes said. “But we’re members of the campus Gay-Straight Alliance.”

“I’m gay,” Blaine said quietly. “I was harassed at my old high school, too. I got beat up after a school dance, so my parents sent me to private school for my senior year. Anyway, there are a couple LGBT groups on campus and I volunteer at a gay youth center nearby.”

“And is it better here?” Kurt asked. “I mean, I’ve always dreamed that New York would be a haven for gay people, but….” Kurt shrugged. “Reality isn’t always like our fantasies.”

“It’s definitely better here than where I came from,” Wes said. “Especially here on campus. Both the faculty and students are mandated to report any incidents of harassment of any kind. If we fail to do so and it comes to light later, we can be held accountable as an accessory. I guess it’s one of the perks of going to such a small and prestigious college. They can actually enforce stuff like that.”

“There was an incident during my freshman year,” David said. “A junior thought he was the big man on campus and could spout his prejudices to anyone and everyone. He was harassing a freshman and the kid’s roommate knew what was going on. The kid convinced his roommate not to say anything. When it all came out later, the junior was expelled and the roommate was suspended for two weeks for not reporting the incident. And the only reason he wasn’t expelled was because the kid spoke up on his behalf at the disciplinary hearing. Normally, keeping your mouth shut is enough to get you expelled.”

“It’s not just about enforcing the rules, though,” Blaine said. “They actually encourage tolerance and acceptance of different races, religions and sexual orientations. The professors inspire us to work together and learn to accept each other. If we can’t, then the Dean can mandate counseling.”

Wes chuckled. “Remember when Blaine had to have counseling?”

David smiled and took up the story. “It was his first quarter but was already pretty obvious that he had the voice and charisma to be the lead soloist for the Noteworthy Gentlemen. One of the guys who had been waiting patiently for his chance at the soloist position was jealous and pretty pissed off that this curly-headed upstart might take his spot. He was a senior and it was his last chance to really shine.”

“I would have backed off if he had just been nicer about it,” Blaine said with a small shrug. “I didn’t even know what his problem was; just that he seemed to hate me.”

“They ended up in counseling,” Wes said. “It all came out and James realized what he was putting Blaine through and apologized profusely. They ended up sharing the soloist spot last year.” 

“Disagreements happen,” David said. “But we really don’t have bigotry here. If you came here, you could be sure that you would be safe. And while I might be cautious in some parts of the city, Manhattan is relatively tolerant on the whole.”

Kurt smiled at them. “That’s good to know.”

“So what part do you sing?” Blaine asked, bringing the topic back to something lighter.

“Countertenor,” Kurt said. “Though with my old glee club that usually meant I got stuck either singing tenor or alto.”

Wes and David both groaned and then David said, “The idiots didn’t know what to do with a countertenor.”

“And you do?” Kurt asked curiously.

“Having a male choir without a countertenor is like… having a great outfit without any accessories,” Blaine said. “It works, but there’s no sparkle.”

“Now I can see the gay shining through,” Kurt chuckled. “But I embrace your analogy.”

“So if you came to school here, would you want to join the Gentlemen?” Wes asked hopefully. “You’d have to audition, but I’m sure it would just be a formality.”

Kurt smiled. “I think I’d like that. But I’d better get back to the admissions office before my father and Dean Hansen send out a search party.”

“I’ll walk you back,” Blaine offered. “These buildings can get pretty confusing.”

On the walk, Kurt turned to Blaine and asked, “Do you live on campus?”

“Yeah,” Blaine said with a nod. “Why?”

Kurt shrugged. “I’ve never lived away from home. I just wondered what it was like living on campus, versus living off campus. I understand a lot of students live off campus.”

“Well, living on campus isn’t bad,” Blaine said. “It can get to be a bit much after a while if you don’t find things to do off campus. I mean, seeing the same people and places all the time. But the guys in our dorm are great. Wes and David are in the same dorm as me. That’s how we met and became friends.”

“I saw one of the dorms,” Kurt said. “I think it was Raymond House?”

Blaine nodded. “That’s probably the quietest all-guys’ dorm and probably the tidiest, so I can see why the Dean would show you that one. We’re in Dalton House. Our dorm is actually the oldest, but we’ve got a good mix of people: some outgoing others quiet. There are twelve rooms in our dorm and fifteen students. Like Raymond, we have a common room and a shared kitchen. Unlike Raymond House, we also have a game room and an exercise room. Gordon Hall and Spencer Hall are the newest dorms and they both have game rooms and exercise rooms, but no kitchen. They’re also a lot bigger with a hundred rooms each and about two hundred students. Then there are also the two all-girls’ houses: Jenson House and Janice House.”

“Why does the size of the dorm matter?” Kurt wondered. “Which is better?”

“Well I think it depends on your preferences,” Blaine said. “A smaller dorm promotes house camaraderie. The guys in Dalton are like my family in a lot of ways. But the larger dorms are more modern and coed.”

“I’d rather have the close relationships than win some competition,” Kurt admitted. “Is there space for another student in Dalton?”

“The other room in my suite is empty,” Blaine said. “You could request that. Or if you aren’t looking for a single, Trent is in a double without a roommate right now. He’s a freshman, too. Those are the only options in Dalton. I don’t really know about the other dorms.”

“At least I’d already know three people if I went into Dalton,” Kurt said.

Blaine reached out for Kurt’s hand and stopped him just before they reached the office. “You’d have three friends. I know we just met and all, but I know that David and Wes liked you. And they’d take you under their wing like they did for me when I got here. They seem kind of intimidating at first, but they really are great guys and a lot more personable than they come across. And I know I like you. So you wouldn’t just know three people; you’d have friends.”

Kurt nodded and tried to surreptitiously wipe away a stray tear that had fallen. “That actually sounds… really good. Thank you.”

Blaine nodded and let go of Kurt’s hand. He watched as Kurt made his way into the office and he could hear Dean Hansen and another man’s voice from inside greeting Kurt. They had obviously been a little worried about him. Blaine just hoped that Kurt decided to come to Parks College.

BKBKBKBKBK

“What did Dean Hansen want with you?” Wes asked at lunch the next day. Blaine had been called out of his musicology class that morning and the news had spread quickly as it always did on such a small campus.

“He wanted to inform me that I’ll be getting a new suite-mate this weekend,” Blaine said with a smile. “He’ll start classes a few days late, but Kurt’s definitely coming here.”

“He’s coming?” David asked with excitement and Blaine nodded. “Yes! We’re going kick those NYADA snobs’ asses with a countertenor at the fall concert.”

“He seems like he’s had a rough time of it,” Wes reminded David. “So we should try not to overwhelm him.”

“Please,” David scoffed. “You’re just as excited as I am. But I don’t think either of us is as excited as Blainers here. Hmm?”

Blaine blushed. “I’m looking forward to his arrival, and that is all I’ll admit.”

“Blainers has a crush,” David sang. 

“Perhaps,” Blaine conceded. “But Kurt seems like he really just needs a friend more than a love interest right now. I was assigned to be his student guide.”

Wes nodded. “That’s good. You can really show him the ropes and help him feel comfortable here. I remember when you got here; it took a while for you to really believe that you were safe outside the walls of that private school. It will probably take him some time too.”

“Just try and keep the other guys from overwhelming him,” Blaine said. 

“When does he get here?” David asked.

“His dad and stepbrother are moving him in on Saturday,” Blaine said. “And he’ll start classes on Monday. That means he’ll just miss today’s classes and Friday’s.”

“I Googled him,” Wes said quietly. “What he said about being jumped by the jocks kind of rang a bell. He’s from Ohio, too, Blaine. I found news stories and trial coverage about the whole thing. His family sued the school board and won.”  “What happened to the guys who hurt him?” Blaine wondered even as he kicked himself for not thinking to Google Kurt.

“They were all sentenced to eighteen months in juvie,” Wes said. “They got out last year.”

“Kurt still hasn’t completely recovered but they’re already getting on with their lives,” David said. “It doesn’t seem fair.”

“Life usually isn’t fair for gay kids,” Blaine said ruefully. “Especially in small towns in Ohio. At least they were held accountable. A lot of times the guys barely get a slap on the wrist if they’re found guilty at all.”

“I also found some footage on YouTube,” Wes said. “One of his old glee teammates must have had a thing about recording their performances because there were a lot of videos from his one year with the team. A lot of them were just in their choir room. Anyway, I didn’t have time to sort through all of the videos last night, but I was thinking we could see if he’s any good.”

“We’ll watch tonight,” Blaine nodded. “But I want to check with him to see if he’s okay with that first. Dean Hansen gave me his number so we could coordinate this weekend. I’ll call him after rehearsal and see if he minds us watching.”

“It’s public content,” David said pointedly.

“But we don’t know what kind of harassment he went through before getting beaten up,” Blaine argued. “I’d rather not do something that could be considered stalker-ish, thank you.”

“You’re right,” Wes agreed. “Get permission first. We don’t want to start off on the wrong foot. He’s going to need all the friends he can get. He needs to trust us. And I doubt that trust will come easy for him.”

BKBKBKBKBK

“Hello?” Kurt’s voice was wary as he picked up the call, but Blaine could totally understand that.

“Hi Kurt,” Blaine said cheerfully. “It’s Blaine Anderson. I’m not sure if you remember me or not, but—”

“I remember you, Blaine,” Kurt interrupted and Blaine could hear the smile in his tone. “I wasn’t really expecting you to call since I didn’t think to give you my number yesterday.”

“Dean Hansen did,” Blaine said. “So we can coordinate the move this weekend. But there’s not really much to coordinate. Just tell me when you’re going to arrive and I’ll make sure that there are plenty of guys to help carry stuff.”

“Well, we haven’t set a specific time yet,” Kurt said. “But I’ll let you know when we do.”

“That’s great,” Blaine chirped. “Listen, I was actually calling for an entirely different reason.”

“And what would that be?” The wariness was back in Kurt’s tone.

“Nothing bad,” Blaine rushed to assure him. “At least I don’t think it’s bad. Wes and David were curious about when you were with your old glee club and Wes found some videos on YouTube. I told him that they can’t watch them unless I get permission from you first. I don’t… I don’t want to do something like that behind your back.”

Kurt actually laughed. “Go ahead and watch. There aren’t many that are actually of me singing anything but backup though. Most are of Rachel or Finn. They tended to hog the spotlight and our glee coach encouraged it. If you want to see something impressive, though, look up the Celine Dion medley that I did for the Cheerios at Nationals that year.”

“Cheerios?” Blaine asked.

“McKinley’s cheer squad,” Kurt explained. “Just put Kurt Hummel Cheerios into the search and you’ll find it.”

“We’ll do that,” Blaine said.

“Thanks for asking first,” Kurt said quietly.

“It was the right thing to do,” Blaine said. “I know how I would have felt in your place. And if you want payback, I’ll email you a few links of embarrassing Wes and David videos. The Noteworthy Gentlemen are easy to find.”

Kurt chuckled. “You can show me when I get to Dalton. I did have a question, so I’m glad you called.”

“I’m happy to answer anything for you, good sir,” Blaine said dramatically.

“Nothing too big,” Kurt said. “I just need to know what days and times the Gentlemen rehearse. I’m trying to set up my PT appointments and have to work around practices. Or at least I hope I’ll have to work around them.”

“I have no doubt you will be in the Gentlemen,” Blaine said. “And normal practice times are Tuesdays and Thursdays from 7:30 to 9:30. Wes will probably schedule additional practices when we get closer to the fall concert. But that won’t be until after Thanksgiving.”

“Thanks,” Kurt mumbled and Blaine could hear him writing the information down. 

“What are you doing right now?” Blaine asked.

“Packing,” Kurt said. “I’m trying to decide what to bring with me. My wardrobe is huge and I know I won’t need all of it, but the idea of leaving anything behind is hard. Plus, I’ve never lived away from home and have no idea what I should bring with me.”

“Well, as you probably noticed when you were here, most students just wear jeans and whatnot,” Blaine said. “But you’ll want a few nicer outfits for going out. The Gentlemen have a set rotation of outfits, but you’ll need black dress pants and dress shoes for that. And you’ll probably want some active wear. You’ll need linens and towels and any toiletries. For your room, you’ll want some photos and probably a few personal items. The rooms are nice, but they can be a bit cold if you don’t decorate a little. Oh, and if you have a TV, you might want to bring that. There is cable in the dorms, though a lot of people just stream on their computers.”

“Thanks,” Kurt said. “I’ll keep all that I mind.”

“So, I guess I’ll see you Saturday,” Blaine said.

“Yeah,” Kurt agreed. “I’ll text you with the time.”

“I’m looking forward to sharing a suite with you,” Blaine said impulsively. “Bye.”

“Bye,” Kurt said and his voice sounded slightly breathless before the connection ended.

BKBKBKBKBK

“That can’t even be real,” Wes said as they sat huddled around his computer later that evening watching Kurt belt out a medley of Celine Dion songs entirely in French. “The breath control and power it takes to sing that long…”

“All while keeping up with that dance routine,” David added.

“It’s been twelve minutes already and he’s still going,” Blaine said. “And look how great he looks in that uniform. Though I like his hair better the way he does it now.”

“We get it,” Wes said. “You like him. No need to wax poetic.”

Blaine slugged his friend in the arm. “Shut up and watch the video.”

They watched the last few minutes of the video and then Wes pulled up the next video on the list which was a performance of “4 Minutes.” This time, Kurt was singing with a very talented African American girl and they were amazing together. Kurt’s voice was definitely lower on that song than on the Celine medley, but he was still amazing. And Blaine was captivated by the way Kurt moved in that Cheerios uniform. 

There didn’t seem to be any other videos of Kurt singing with the Cheerios, though they did find a few with him doing routines with them, so Wes went to the New Directions page he had bookmarked the night before. There were a lot of songs with him in the background or with only one or two lines. But they did find a few that were just Kurt or where Kurt really stood out. Blaine was amazed how low his voice went on “Give Up the Funk” and wondered who was filming the performance of “Rose’s Turn,” since it was obvious that Kurt had thought himself to be alone. “I Want to Hold Your Hand” was deeply emotional and moving and Blaine wondered what Kurt had been feeling at the time. There was a lovely duet with Kurt and some short brunette of “Happy Days Are Here Again/Get Happy” that Blaine adored. Then there was an elaborate presentation of “Le Jazz Hot.” Then they watched a competition with that brunette girl over “Defying Gravity.”

“He blew that note on purpose,” Wes stated definitively. “He hit the high F a dozen times in that Celine medley and that was only a few months later.”

“I wonder why he would do something like that,” David said.

“Is that a Mellencamp song?” Blaine asked as he pointed to another video. Blaine pulled it up and there was Kurt wearing a baseball cap and flannel as he sang “Pink Houses.”

“Not what I would have ever pictured Kurt singing,” David said with a frown. 

“It’s almost painful to watch,” Blaine agreed.

“There has to be a story behind this one,” Wes said. He clicked the stop button, unwilling to watch the rest. 

They watched one last video, “A House Is Not a Home,” before turning off the computer.

“He has an unbelievable range,” Wes said. “He can hit a high F easily and still sing as low as he did on ‘Give Up the Funk.’” 

“He sounds like an angel,” David said. “At least when he isn’t singing Mellencamp.”

“I wonder what he’ll sing for his audition,” Blaine said.

“You need to help him with that,” Wes said. “We definitely want him, and the rest of the team will too when they hear him sing. But remember that Thad is diehard anti-musical theater. If he chooses the wrong song, it could hurt his chances for a solo come competition.”

“We could technically out vote him, but it would cause issues, as you know,” David said. They all remembered the only time the two had sided against Thad. He had made everyone’s lives difficult and the council had ended up in counseling for three months.

“I’ll make sure he understands Thad’s aversion to Broadway,” Blaine promised.

“Good, because a voice like that needs to be featured,” Wes said.

BKBKBKBKBK

Blaine was up bright and early on Saturday. He didn’t really need to be, since Kurt and his family weren’t scheduled to arrive until eleven, but he was too excited at the prospect of having Kurt move in to sleep any later. So he went for a run and then had Breakfast with some of the other Dalton guys at the cafeteria in Gordon Hall. Then he spent about an hour cleaning his room and the shared sitting room before finally hopping into the shower. He knew that he would probably get a little hot and sweaty carrying stuff for Kurt, but he wanted to look his best when Kurt arrived.

About ten minutes before the Hummels were scheduled to arrive, Blaine started rounding up volunteers to help move things. Of course Wes and David were roped into helping. Trent, Jeff and Nick all three volunteered as well. So the six of them headed outside and waited.

“When are they getting here?” David whined.

“Any minute now,” Blaine said irritably. He was getting a little impatient himself. It had been three days since he had seen Kurt and two days since he had talked to him. He didn’t count texts; there had been a few of those, but it wasn’t the same as seeing Kurt or hearing Kurt’s voice. Maybe Wes and David had a point about him having a crush.

“I think that’s them,” Wes said even as he jumped up and down and pointed to the vehicle that had just pulled into the parking lot: a shiny black Navigator. They pulled into an open space and soon they saw Kurt climbing from the Navigator’s driver’s side and a man from the passenger. A woman and a very tall boy got out of the back seat. All four walked over to where the welcoming committee was waiting.

“It’s great to see you again, Kurt,” David said with a grin.

“We’re so pleased you decided to attend Parks,” Wes said.

“It’s nice to see you again too,” Kurt said with a smile. “Guys, this is my father, Congressman Burt Hummel, my stepmother, Carole Hudson-Hummel, and my stepbrother, Finn Hudson. Dad, this is Blaine Anderson, Wesley Montgomery and David Ashton. I’m sorry, I don’t know the other boys.”

“I’m Jeff,” Jeff said with a smile and a wave. “That’s Nick and Trent. We’re all in the Noteworthy Gentlemen and we all live in Dalton.”

“They volunteered to help get you moved in,” Blaine said.

“Well then, let’s get to work,” Burt said. 

Even with all of them helping, it took a few trips each to get everything inside the large townhouse that served as a dorm. And once that was done, most of the guys stuck around to help unpack. By one o’clock, they were completely finished except for a few personal items that Kurt wanted to handle himself later. The guys all accepted Kurt’s thanks and headed out. Blaine hung around the sitting room while Kurt said his goodbyes to his family. When the door finally closed behind them, Kurt leaned heavily against it.

“I love them all, but they can be exhausting,” Kurt sighed. 

“Are you hungry?” Blaine asked. “Because we have about half an hour before the dining hall closes for lunch. After that, we either have to wait for them to open for dinner or go out.”

“Actually, I’m starving,” Kurt admitted. “Just let me wash up and we can head over.”

BKBKBKBKBK

There were still a few stragglers when they entered the dining hall a few minutes later. The boys from Dalton were still there, finishing up their lunches. Since they were all in the Gentlemen, Kurt took the opportunity to quiz them about the group. In return, they quizzed Kurt about his singing and his other interests. Blaine learned that not only did Kurt have as extensive a collection of Vogue issues of his own, but he also enjoyed working on cars at his dad’s garage. He loved musical theater, but was also interested in learning languages and wanted to travel. No one brought up the reason for his late arrival or his obvious limp.

Kurt was the one who actually brought the subject up when he and Blaine were on their way back to the dorm. The other boys had headed to natatorium to swim for a while.

“You all looked up my singing,” Kurt said. “I can’t believe that you didn’t look up the rest of my story, too. There were enough news articles that a Google search would have brought back plenty of results.”

Blaine blushed. “Actually, Wes did Google it. He told us a little, but not much. Do you, um, mind?”

Kurt shook his head. “Not really. I mean, it’s public knowledge back home. I’ve had to go over the whole thing for the trial and then for the law suits and then again in counseling. I don’t really mind talking about it.”

“So, I know that you were attacked, but I'm pretty sure there’s more to the story,” Blaine said.

Kurt nodded. “I’d been bullied for so long I had kind of gotten used to it. Getting shoved into lockers, being called derogatory names, having slushies thrown in my face randomly, being tossed into the dumpster… you almost become immune to it after a while, you know?”

“Unfortunately, I do,” Blaine said.

“Anyway, things started getting worse at the beginning of my junior year,” Kurt said. “It didn’t take long to figure out that the reason it was getting worse was because one of the jocks was targeting me specifically. He went out of his way to torture me. One day, I had just had enough. I confronted him. After he shoved me into the lockers again, I chased him down and followed him into the boys’ locker room. I shouted at him and told him to just get it over with and hit me already. Instead, he kissed me.”

Kurt huffed a tired laugh. “There I was in total shock that this colossal asshole had just sexually assaulted me and in walks some of his homophobic buddies. He, of course, told them that I tried to kiss him, instead of the other way around. They took that as confirmation that all gays need to be killed before we infect the good and honest heterosexuals. Like I would ever want any of them. There were five of them and any one of them could have beaten me to a pulp all on their own. I don’t remember much after the first few hits and kicks. The doctors think I hit my head on one of the lockers.

“Anyway, they were caught by the football coach, Coach Beist,” Kurt said. “She called the cops and the ambulance. They ran, but she knew who all of them were. The paramedics came and rushed me to the hospital. They say my heart stopped a couple times and my lung collapsed once. I was rushed into surgery and stayed there for almost eight hours straight while the doctors tried to fix all the damage those boys did.

“I woke up in the hospital five days later," Kurt continued. "My dad was there and he told me everything. I had a concussion, several broken ribs, some internal damage including a ruptured spleen and a collapsed lung. The worst damage was done to my hip, however; I've had to have three surgeries to repair the damage and it will never heal completely. I used to dream of being on Broadway, but that will never happen now."

"I'm so sorry," Blaine said as he clasped Kurt's hand. They had reached the dorm and headed inside.

"There's nothing for you to be sorry about," Kurt said with a sad smile. "It was a long shot dream anyway. I've accepted it. There are so many other things I can do with my life."

They were both quiet until they reached their suite, the Blaine led them to the sofa in their sitting room and they sat together. "Wes said that you sued the school board?"

"And won," Kurt said with a small smile. "It started out because there were just so many medical expenses. Even now, I'm in physical therapy, counseling and have to see my doctor pretty regularly to make sure everything is healing properly. So we hired a lawyer. 

"I think the school board thought that they could just buy me off," Kurt said. "They offered us $100,000 to settle out of court. That wouldn't have even covered our bills. Plus, the only way they were ever going to make any changes to school policy was if it hurt them financially. So we went to court.

"I think they figured they would have the upper hand," Kurt said. "I mean, I'm just a kid, right? All I had was my word. But they were wrong. I had documented evidence of the bullying and who I reported it to. I had videos of me being tossed in dumpsters that the jocks had put online to brag. After the first week of high school I started keeping a journal of every incident. I kept names or descriptions of the bullies. I kept witnesses to the attacks. I wrote down who I reported the incidents to. I emailed that list to the principal and the school superintendent every month. They never did anything but send back generic replies that basically said boys will be boys. But I kept every email. I had evidence of more than two years of daily harassment when we went to court."

Blaine chuckled. "No wonder you won. What made you think to record all of that?"

Kurt flushed but said, "I lost an Alexander McQueen jacket to a dumpster toss and a Marc Jacobs sweater to a slushie. Part of what I kept track of was the dry cleaning or replacement costs for any clothes that were ruined."

"So did the law suit work?" Blaine wondered. "Did they make changes?"

"Not enough," Kurt sighed. "But they did get rid of the slushie machine in the cafeteria and have started assigning teachers to be hall monitors. Until they change their attitudes, however, they won't do much good."

"At least it's a start," Blaine said. 

"And I won enough money to pay to come here, amongst other things," Kurt agreed. "I'll never dance again the way I once could but for a while the doctors weren't sure I would ever walk again. So I guess I was lucky."

"What happened to the guy who kissed you?" Blaine wondered. "Did he ever deal with his internalized homophobia?"

Kurt shook his head sadly. "As bad as it was for me, things were worse for him in the end. When everything came out in the trial, he pretty much lost it. He ended up committing suicide. He wrote me a letter before... he said he was sorry and that he couldn't be as strong as I am."

"God, that's awful," Blaine said.

"Yeah," Kurt agreed. "It is."

They were both quiet as they neared the dorm until Blaine let them in using his access card. "So, um, your dad is a Congressman? Wes didn't say anything about that."

Kurt chuckled. "That's probably because he only read about the attack. My dad wasn't into politics until the bullies tried to kill me. Then he got very involved. He says he wants to do something to protect kids like us. He's been pushing for anti-bullying legislation that would force schools to actually do something about the situation."

"That's a man to admire," Blaine said. "Don't just complain about injustice. Go out and try to change it."

"He is literally the world's greatest dad," Kurt said with a fond smile as they reached their suite. "Though I wouldn't mind if he laid off the overprotective stuff a little. It was a bitch to get him to agree that I should finally start college. I'm already a year behind because of the attack."

"So you should have been in my year," Blaine said. "Well, the good thing about college is that there's no set time line. You can go at your own pace. Granted, with the trimester system here, we tend to go a little faster here than some schools, but still."

"Explain to me why they call the semesters quarters but the system is based on trimester," Kurt asked as he carefully sat on the sofa in their shared sitting room. His hip was acting up from the drive followed by all the physical exertion of moving in.

"Well, it's called a trimester system because there are three semesters in the regular school year. But, there are also summer classes. So there are actually four semesters."

"Rather convoluted," Kurt said. "But okay."

"Have you gotten signed up for your courses yet?" Blaine asked as he took a seat at the other end of the sofa.

"Yes," Kurt said. "Though the first quarter is all general education courses. I was hoping to get to something a little more interesting."

"Next quarter," Blaine promised. "What's your major?"

"I haven't quite decided," Kurt admitted. "I'm leaning toward a double major in fine arts, with a concentration in painting, and art history."

"So you're an artist, too?" Blaine asked. "Impressive."

Kurt shrugged. "I started out just doodling sketches of outfits I liked or wanted to try. My art teacher saw them and went crazy. I was practically forced to take art classes after that. Well, until I left school. But by then, I was taking private lessons. I do love it, but it isn't a practical career aspiration. So I think I'll probably do art history as a fallback."

"Yeah," Blaine said. "I plan to get my teaching certification as a fallback. But my ambition is to write and perform my own songs. Even if it's only in a bar once a month for tips. I just love to perform."

"A lofty goal," Kurt teased and then winced as his hip twinged. "Well, I hate to do this, but I need to take a pain pill and lie down for a while."

Blaine nodded as he stood up. "Okay. Um, would you like me to wake you when it's time for dinner?"

"Thanks," Kurt said with a smile as he accepted the hand Blaine offered to help him to his feet. "I would appreciate that."

"No problem," Blaine said with a grin. 

BKBKBKBKBK


	26. Arranged Marriage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Burt's death, Kurt is sent to live with his cold and distant grandmother. She arranges a marriage to the son of a business associate to foster a merger. 
> 
> Hints of mild dominance/submission. Mpreg.

Kurt stared out the limousine window with disinterest. The beauty of that sunny May morning was lost on him, as was the luxury of his transport. There was very little that could catch his interest these days. Sure this was the first time that he had ever ridden in a limo, but he just couldn't conjure the excitement that he had always thought he would feel. There was just too much pain in his heart to appreciate any extravagance.

Swiping at the tears that seemed to always be present since his father died, Kurt prepared himself for one more upheaval. In the two weeks since the funeral, Kurt had moved from his home in with an elderly neighbor in the hopes that social services would leave him alone. It hadn't worked and he had been visited by social services five times. His father's lawyer had been by three times. He felt like he was being bombarded with changes and choices. Should he sell the garage? Should he keep the house? Where would he live? With the neighbor or would the state make him go to a foster home?

And then, two days before, Kurt's social worker had come by again to tell him that she had located his closest living relative. Kurt hadn't even known that his grandmother was still alive, let alone that she lived only an hour away in Marysville. He did know that his father had never wanted to talk about his mother's family the few times that Kurt had asked. It made him wonder what kind of people they were. His father was generally a kind and easygoing man. Few people could alienate him.

But he didn't have much choice about meeting her. By law, she was now his guardian. At least for the next 11 months until he turned 18. When the limo came to pick him up, Kurt was a little surprised. He hadn't known that his mother came from a wealthy family. But being surprised didn't translate to being happy or excited. Money didn't mean much when you lost the only person who loved you unconditionally, the man who was both father and best friend. 

As the limo pulled up to a rather stately mansion, Kurt wondered once again what kind of person his grandmother was. 

BKBKBKBKBK

Three weeks later Kurt had a much better understanding of why his father had denied his grandmother access to their lives. She was cold and vacant and only cared about her wealth and status. She had not greeted him when he arrived. In fact the only time he saw her was at the overly formal dinners for two she insisted he attend each evening. During those dinners she had little to say to Kurt that wasn't negative. She criticized his clothes and his hair. She spoke poorly of Burt Hummel. She disparaged the daughter who had run off to marry a lowly mechanic rather than the wealthy son of some business acquaintance. 

Kurt was entirely silent throughout these tirades. In fact, he was entirely silent most of the time. The only time he used his voice at all since coming to the mansion was when he was alone in his room, where he sang softly to himself and tried to remember a time when he was truly happy. It had been a very long time ago.

But on this night, Kurt had no choice but to speak. "What?"

"I said that you are going to marry the son of David Anderson at the end of September," Gloria Mason stated firmly. "We have been in talks to unify our businesses for several months, but our respective boards are reluctant to approve the merger. This marriage would join our families and therefore reduce the inherent distrust."

"I'm not going to marry some strange man just to further your business interests," Kurt determinedly stated.

Gloria's lips pursed even further than their natural state. "It would be in your best interests to comply."

"How so?" Kurt asked coolly.

"I assume you would like to attend college after you graduate," Gloria said with a calm façade. "As my grandson, you would not be eligible for financial aid. And if you do not comply, I will not pay for your school, nor will you receive any other financial assistance from me in the future."

Kurt set his fork down and stared at his plate as he contemplated his situation for several minutes. When he looked up at his grandmother again, there was determination in his eyes and a cool mask of aloofness on his face. "You are all about business, so let's make a deal."

Gloria's eyes narrowed. "What sort of deal did you have in mind?"

"I want to attend high school in the fall, not be holed up in this mansion all day like I have been," Kurt said. "I also want complete financial independence. I don't want to do this and then, a year from now, have you decide that you want something else from me and hold my college education over my head again. Finally, I want you to sign off for me to become emancipated. And I want it all in writing. If I do this, you will no longer have any hold over me."

Gloria glared at Kurt for long minutes while she considered his terms. Eventually, she gave him a shark like smile. "You are a very shrewd negotiator. You would make a strong CEO someday."

"I have no interest in running your company or any company," Kurt said. "Do we have a deal?"

"I'll call my lawyer tomorrow and get the ball rolling," Gloria said. "We'll need to negotiate what constitutes financial independence."

Kurt picked his fork up again and began to eat. He wasn't sure what exactly he was getting himself into, but it had to be better than his current situation.

BKBKBKBKBK

When Kurt looked back on the negotiations later, he would remember most clearly the moment when Gloria's lawyer revealed her opening offer. It was more money than Kurt could have ever imagined. But he hadn't allowed that to show. Instead, he asked for time to consider it. He left that first meeting and went to do a little bit of calculating. He found a site online that was usually used for people calculating retirement costs and adapted it to his own needs. When he was done, he had an idea of how much money he would actually need to support himself if he never worked a day. It wasn't far from the first offer, but Kurt decided that he wasn't going to just settle for her first offer. He went to the next meeting prepared with a counter offer and a bottom line that he would not go below.

It took two more rounds, but Kurt was pretty pleased with the results. He would receive the majority of the settlement in stocks and bonds and real estate upon his marriage as well as a comparatively small allotment of cash. In addition, his grandmother agreed to pay for the wedding, provide Kurt's tuition, room and board for a private school for his senior year and college, and buy a car for Kurt. Kurt was emancipated legally, and then the contract was signed.

Once their negotiations were complete, however, Gloria was free to start planning the wedding. Kurt had always dreamed of planning the perfect wedding for himself, but he couldn't begin to care that he had no say in anything that was arranged. What he did care about was the fact that two weeks before the set date for their wedding Kurt had still not met his intended.

Kurt decided that he would rectify that with or without his grandmother’s approval. He knew the boy's name and he knew that he attended Dalton Academy because his grandmother had paid a large fee and donation so that Kurt could finish his senior year there with his soon-to-be husband. And so, one afternoon in mid-September, after finishing with the tutors his grandmother insisted on hiring until he actually got married, Kurt had his grandmother's chauffeur drive him to Dalton.

Kurt knew he was out of place in his fashionable blazer but didn't care. He was on a mission. As he was walking down the hallway, a chime sounded, signaling the end of the period. Kurt prepared himself for a flood of bodies that never came. First of all, the boys didn't just jump up and rush out of the classes. It took them a few moments and Kurt had to assume that they actually waited until their teacher dismissed them.

Second, when they did enter the hall, there was no shoving or running to get to the next class. There were many small groups walking together and Kurt could tell that some were still discussing whatever topic they had just discussed in class. Others were joking around like any other teenage boys. There was a little good natured shoving and joking, but nothing intentionally hurtful. Several of the boys noticed him as they walked past and Kurt noted that every single one of them seemed to smile at him.

He headed back towards the administration building following the flow of students. He wasn't sure where they were heading but they all seemed to be going there together. It seemed likely that Kurt's intended would be there as well. It wasn't yet lunchtime, so he knew that they weren't finished with classes, but all of them seemed to be heading to the administration building.

Following the crowd, Kurt wandered down the marble spiral staircase in an atrium he hadn't seen before. There, he stopped one of the students to ask what was going on.

"Excuse me," Kurt said as he looked over the very attractive boy with the slicked back hair and the Gucci satchel. "Um hi. Can I ask you a question? I'm new."

"My name is Blaine," the other boys said with a smile as he held out his hand.

Kurt took it and was left a little breathless by the contact. This had to be the boy he was looking for. How many Blaines could there be in a small school like Dalton? But Kurt wasn't ready to tell him who he was so he just said, "Kurt. Uh, so what exactly is going on?"

"The Warblers," Blaine said with a grin. "Every now and then they throw an impromptu performance in the senior commons. Tends to shut the school down for a while."

"So wait," Kurt said with a frown. "The glee club here is kind of cool?"

"The Warblers are like rock stars," Blaine said and his grin grew even wider. Then he reached out his hand to Kurt again. "Come on, I know a shortcut."

What followed were some of the best moments of Kurt's life as Blaine continued to hold his hand as they ran through the side rooms to the commons. Only once they had arrived did Blaine let go and Kurt immediately felt the loss. 

Then he noted all the boys in the room as they moved furniture around to make room for the performance. "Oh… I stick out like a sore thumb."

"Next time don't forget your jacket new kid," Blaine said as he tugged teasingly at Kurt's lapel. "You'll fit right in. Now if you'll excuse me."

Kurt nearly had a heart attack when Blaine went to join the Warblers. And when he started singing, Kurt was sure that he had just fallen in love. Their acapella version of Teenage Dream was amazing, but all Kurt could see was Blaine. And Blaine seemed to be singing directly to him. If this wasn't his Blaine then Kurt was seriously screwed. If it was his Blaine, then he should probably thank his grandmother.

But Kurt wasn't thinking about any of that right then. For the first time in what seemed like forever, Kurt was smiling a genuine smile that lit up his face and reached his eyes. 

When the performance was over, Blaine returned to his side along with two other boys. "We all have a free period and were going to the café for some coffee. Would you like to join us?"

Kurt bit his lips. He wanted to say yes and just get to know Blaine casually. But he knew that it wasn't a good idea to put off the necessary conversation he came to have. 

"As much as I'd like that, I think you and I should probably talk alone," Kurt said. "My full name is Kurt Hummel. I'm Gloria Mason's grandson."

As the truth of the situation dawned on Blaine, his face was an open book. Kurt could read the fear and hope and confusion written plainly on the other boy's features.

"Um, yes, of course," Blaine finally stammered. "Wes, David, I guess Kurt and I need to talk alone."

It was clear that the other boys were reluctant to leave. It was also clear that Blaine hadn't told them about the situation. But once they were gone, Blaine led Kurt to the promised café and they got coffee before finding a secluded corner to talk.

"So, you haven't told your friends?" Kurt asked before taking a sip of his coffee.

Blaine shook his head and stared at his cup. "I haven't really told anyone. I guess I thought if I ignored it, it would all just go away."

Kurt could sympathize, but he didn't have the luxury of delusion. "It's not going away."

"Can I ask you something?" Blaine asked.

"We're getting married in less than two weeks," Kurt said wryly. "I think you can ask me just about anything."

Blaine nodded. "So, why did you agree to this?"

Kurt huffed a derisive laugh. "Because I didn't have a lot of choice." He proceeded to tell Blaine about his father's death and his subsequent time at his grandmother's house. "I figured it was better to go along with her scheme and get something that I wanted from the deal than to fight it and end up with nothing. Besides, I’m pretty sick of being locked away in her mansion. It’s not as much fun as one might think."

Blaine seemed to deflate. "I wish I could get what I want from the deal."

Kurt frowned. "Why can't you?"

Blaine hesitated. "Well, I guess because I've never really been able to stand up for myself with my parents. My father, really."

Kurt nodded slowly. "I think you need a little help, then. You need someone to negotiate for you."

"And who would I get for that?" Blaine asked.

"Me," Kurt said. "We just need to decide what it is you want from this deal."

"I want to be able to go to college and study music," Blaine said. "And I want to not have to come to them for money."

"Let's make a list," Kurt said. "And then, we're going to talk with your parents. You'll just have to miss the rest of your classes today. There isn't time to put this off."

Blaine nodded. "Why would you do this for me? Aren't you risking your own deal if I choose not to go through with the wedding?"

Kurt shrugged. "I am, but I figure that if worse comes to worst, I can either sell my dad's garage or the house to pay for college. If we're going to be married, we should learn to work as a team. That means that what's good for you is good for me and vice versa."

"Okay, then, there's something else you should know," Blaine said resolutely, though Kurt could tell that he was nervous about whatever he was about to say. "I'm a carrier, and I'm pretty sure that my parents expect me to have a baby sooner rather than later. And they'll want to have something to do with how it's raised."

"Why would they want you to have a baby right out of high school?" Kurt asked.

"Because they... my dad thinks because I'm a carrier that my sole purpose in life is to get married and have kids and host dinner parties while I look pretty for my spouse," Blaine said quietly. "He doesn't even think I should go to college."

"That's such bullshit," Kurt said fervently. "You are so talented. It would be a waste for you to be somebody's arm candy."

"So you wouldn't expect me to be a house husband?" Blaine asked.

"Only if that's what you wanted," Kurt said with a shrug. "And if we could afford it."

Blaine seemed to study Kurt for a long time before nodding. "We should get to the list."

BKBKBKBKBK

Meeting Blaine's parents was an interesting experience. Kurt disliked his father immediately. David Anderson ignored both his own wife and Blaine. It was obvious that he dismissed them both as unimportant, as if a mere woman and a carrier were unable to contribute intelligently to the discussion. Men like that were so misogynistic that they believed that women and carriers were to be seen and not heard. That was somewhat a good thing, however, since David Anderson was not nearly the negotiator that Gloria Mason was and Kurt had no trouble backing him down on most areas of negotiation. The only snag on the negotiations came when the topic of children came up. Even so, Kurt refused to give in on that point.

"Absolutely not," Kurt said. "We are not having children on your schedule. We will have children if and when we decide we are both ready. And if we do have kids, they will be our children to raise. You will not hold money or anything else over their heads. Even if that means that we have to live modestly. You will not interfere with our children."

"I don't think you understand the importance of having an heir to take over the family business," David Anderson said snidely.

"I understand that you believe it's important," Kurt shrugged. "And I believe that letting our children decide their own future is more important. You might get lucky and one of them may be interested in business. But you aren't going to bribe or threaten them to do so. If that’s what you want, then I’d suggest you start bribing your other son to have kids."

"Even if we doubled the settlement?" David said, dangling more money in front of them.

"Even then," Kurt said firmly. "Any potential children Blaine and I might have are not a part of this negotiation. Otherwise, we're finished here and you can explain to my grandmother why the wedding has to be canceled."

That got David Anderson to back off and the negotiations were completed soon after. Blaine would be emancipated, and he would receive a financial settlement nearly equal to what Kurt would receive from his grandmother. Kurt couldn't get them to pay for Blaine to go to college, but he knew that they could afford tuition once they received the settlement. More importantly, David would also turn over ownership of the grand piano and the antique violin and cello that Blaine loved so dearly. 

It was clear that David Anderson believed that Kurt would control Blaine's money and life after they were married, and was therefore negotiating for himself, but Kurt had no intention of taking Blaine's money or telling him what to do with it. Blaine would be free to do as he pleased.

Of course, Blaine didn't yet know that. After getting the agreement down on paper, ready to be written up by a lawyer, Kurt needed to get back for dinner and Blaine had to get back to school. Instead, they made plans to meet up over the weekend to really talk about their future.

"Just remember, make sure that the contract says what we agreed," Kurt told Blaine as they stood outside the front door to the Anderson home. "And if you have any doubts, get a lawyer to look it over before you sign it. Also, you have to get the emancipation papers before you can legally sign a document. And if you feel like your father is pressuring you, just call me. We can handle him together."

Blaine nodded and then sighed. "I wish I was strong, like you. Then I could stand up for myself and not have to rely on anyone to defend my rights. The guys at school see me as this confident guy, but they don't know... It's all just an act."

"You are strong," Kurt said. "Just in a different way. You're strong enough to choose your battles. And your confidence isn't fake. I saw you perform today. You can't fake confidence like that. Just don't listen to your father. You are an amazing person, and I think I'm pretty damned lucky that it's you I'm marrying."

Blaine practically threw himself into Kurt's arms. But as quickly as he initiated the hug, he also pulled away. He nodded to Kurt and then went to his car. Kurt waved and climbed into the waiting limo.

BKBKBKBKBK

The two boys met at a coffee shop on Saturday, but Kurt's plan to talk about their relationship was put on hold. Blaine had gotten the emancipation papers but hadn't yet signed the contract. He wanted Kurt to look it over first. So instead of getting to know each other and work out their expectations, they spent the afternoon making sure that Blaine wasn't cheated. 

Kurt did find out that Blaine had told his friends about him and the arranged marriage. Wes and David, the two boys Kurt met, were even coming to the wedding. Kurt was glad that Blaine would have them there for support.

All too soon the wedding day arrived and Kurt was equal parts grateful to finally be able to move out of his grandmother’s house and terrified at the prospect of taking responsibility not only for himself but for Blaine as well. Not to mention starting at a new school. Even if Dalton had strict rules against bullying, there was no guarantee that Kurt would be accepted. 

The church was filled with hundreds of people but Kurt knew none of them. He had no friends from his life in Lima. It had always been just him and his dad. Then again, Kurt didn't think Blaine had invited anyone but Wes and David. The rest of the people were likely business associates of both Gloria and David. 

The ceremony was traditional and Kurt was proud that he didn't falter over his vows. Blaine looked nervous enough for both of them and Kurt felt like he needed to be strong for him. Kurt did note that Blaine looked spectacular in his tuxedo. He would have preferred something a little flashier for himself but Blaine looked dapper. 

At the reception, they both dutifully greeted all of their guests and went through the motions. The one highlight of the day was when they danced together. Kurt found that he really loved holding his new husband close and for those few moments it was like no one else existed. But then they were forced to return to the real world and go back to playing the happy couple. 

Once the festivities were over, Kurt and Blaine met with Gloria, David and the lawyers. The transfer of their settlements was completed and they were free. Gloria's driver took them to a local hotel where they would spend the night before going to Dalton together on Sunday. 

"So now what?" Blaine asked once they were in the limo. He nervously fiddled with the button on his jacket. 

"Now we take our time getting to know each other," Kurt said. "We only have to answer to each other. There's no pressure for our relationship to move at a certain speed. We can go at our own pace now that we're free."

Blaine looked up at Kurt and gave him a smile that was bright enough to melt Kurt's heart. "I'm glad that if I had to get married that it was to you."

"Me too," Kurt said and he meant it. 

Part Two

"I wonder why they got us a hotel room," Blaine mused a couple hours later as they ate dinner from the room service tray. Neither of them had much chance to actually eat at the reception. 

"Appearances," Kurt said with a shrug. "But I'm glad they did. As nice as your friends seem, I wasn't quite ready to face Dalton tonight."

"I'm glad Wes and David came," Blaine said. "I, um, didn't see any of your friends at the wedding."

Kurt sighed. "That's because I don't really have friends. I was the only out kid at a homophobic high school. There were a couple girls I used to do class projects with sometimes but..."

"I'm sorry," Blaine said.

"Don't be," Kurt told him. "I used to spend most of my time after school at the garage with my dad. He was my best friend."

"You must miss him terribly," Blaine said quietly.

"I do," Kurt said, his voice filled with emotion. "I think I spent the first two weeks after he died crying constantly, and then my grandmother showed up and I was basically left alone in her house. I had all summer to really grieve. Now I'm just ready to move on. I miss him and I always will, but I refuse to wallow. I think my dad would want me to find a way to carve out a life for myself."

"I think he must be pretty proud of you, wherever he is now," Blaine said. "Because you didn't just sit back and let Gloria run your life. You found a way to make her schemes benefit you. And then you did the same for me."

"I hope so," Kurt said. He set aside his empty plate and watched as Blaine rolled the cart outside their room for housekeeping to pick up. Their room was rather large, with a separate sitting area, but it still only had one bed. "We should probably talk."

"About?" Blaine asked as he came back and sat on the edge of the bed.

"About what we expect from this marriage," Kurt said. "I said a lot of things while I was negotiating with your father. But I need you to know that nothing is decided until we both decide what we want."

"You mean about the kids?" Blaine asked.

"About more than just kids," Kurt said. "I saw the way your father treats your mother. I just want you to understand that I would never treat anyone that way. We're equal partners in this marriage. You have a say in what you want for your life. You want to be a stay at home dad, that's your choice. You want to never have kids and pursue a career, that's your choice. You want to have kids but want the career too, that's okay too. Maybe I'll choose to be the stay at home dad or we could hire a nanny. Who knows? 

"The point is, you can be whoever and whatever you want to be," Kurt continued. "The only thing that I ask is that we talk about things together. If you want to take a job in Hong Kong, fine. But we need to talk about it to see if I would go with you or hold down the fort here. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Blaine nodded a little warily. "I understand it. I'm just not sure if I can believe it. Not that I think you're lying, but in my experience, that's not how marriages work."

"Maybe not in the social circles you grew up in," Kurt said. "But in my world, it's pretty normal."

"What if," Blaine hesitated before starting over. "What if one of us isn't attracted to the other? Would we... just be friends?"

"If that's the case, sure," Kurt said. "We already agreed that we aren't going to rush into anything. We have time. And if it turns out that we never proceed from friends to lovers, that's okay too. But I can tell you that I find you very attractive."

Blaine blushed. "I think you're beautiful." He turned away to fiddle with the pillows on the bed. 

Kurt found it charming how shy Blaine could be with him, when he was so outgoing in other situations. He wondered if there was more to that bashfulness than simple shyness, but there was no rush; he had time to find out.

"You said you want to go to college," Kurt said. "Have you applied anywhere? Or do you at least know which schools you want to apply to?"

Blaine nodded. "I've applied to Juilliard, New England Conservatory, Peabody, Northwestern, Manhattan Conservatory, and Ohio State. I want to study composition and piano."

"All great schools," Kurt said. "I've applied to Northwestern and Ohio State, but the rest of my schools are NYADA, Pace, and NYU. I want to go into musical theater. And if that doesn't work out, then I want to get into the business side of things: producing, theater management, that sort of thing. Sometimes I think that I might actually enjoy the business side more."

"So you sing too?" Blaine asked excitedly. "I would love to hear you. And you have to join the Warblers!"

"I promise to audition for the Warblers," Kurt said with a grin. "And we'll be sharing a room, so I'm sure you'll hear me singing until you are sick of my voice."

Blaine sat back against the headboard and thought about everything they had talked about so far. "So, what happens if, say, I want to go to Peabody and you want to go to NYADA?"

"Then we talk," Kurt said. "We might compromise and both choose Northwestern instead. We might go our separate ways during the school year. I might decide that I'd rather be together than have my top choice school and go to Johns Hopkins. But we'll talk about it first."

Kurt made a mental note to check out the theater program at Johns Hopkins and send an application.

"We should get ready for bed," Kurt said. "I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted."

"Weddings do take it out of you," Blaine agreed. "Especially if it’s yours."

They took turns in the bathroom and within the hour they were both climbing under the covers of the large bed. Kurt didn't want to pressure Blaine, so he kept to his side of the bed at first. But Blaine didn't seem to have the same concerns, because he shuffled over until he was right up against Kurt. Kurt smiled in the darkness as he wrapped his arms around his husband. Cuddled up together, they soon fell asleep.

BKBKBKBKBK

Kurt's new Mercedes ML63 AMG SUV was waiting for them down by the front entrance when they checked out late the next morning. He had picked it out that week and was just slightly in love with the car. There was more than enough room in the back for their overnight bags and the hanging clothes bags with their tuxedos.

On the drive to Dalton, Blaine told Kurt about the school, the students, and the Warblers. Since the school was much smaller than McKinley, they would likely share many of the same classes and Blaine promised to show Kurt around. 

The boys went directly to their dorm when they arrived. Kurt hadn't gotten much information from his reticent grandmother other than she had arranged for them to room together and that their things would be moved when they arrived after the wedding. He knew that Blaine had a single room that wasn't large enough to share so he had to move as well. Blaine told Kurt that he hadn't seen their new room yet. 

What they found wasn’t a room but a suite. They had a small sitting room, an even smaller kitchenette, a bathroom and a bedroom. The biggest surprise was the fact that the bedroom only had one bed. 

"I have no idea what my grandmother said or did to get us this room but I think I'm grateful," Kurt said. "And slightly embarrassed."

"But at least we don't have to use the communal showers," Blaine said as he walked from the bedroom back to the sitting room. 

"True," Kurt agreed loudly as he looked over the shelves of skin and hair products in the bathroom to make sure everything had made the move. "I'm not sure I would have made any friends if the other boys had to wait for me to finish getting ready in the mornings."

Blaine chuckled and walked over to the shelves holding their DVDs. “You wanna watch a movie? It seems like we have both your movies and mine here. Lots of duplicates.”

Kurt sighed as he joined Blaine in the sitting room and practically collapsed onto the sofa. “I don’t care what we watch. I just want to forget everything for a while. You choose.”

“Star!” Blaine said with a grin. “I haven’t seen this in forever. The dialogue between Noel Coward and Gertrude is the best.”

“I love the costumes,” Kurt said. “And Julie Andrews is always spectacular. Good choice.”

Blaine put the movie into the player and then joined Kurt on the sofa. While the fake credits played in black and white, he turned to Kurt with a thoughtful look. “We’re going to make this work, aren’t we?”

“I think we are,” Kurt said. “I want to. This whole marriage thing might not have been either of our choice, but I think we got lucky. I think we make sense together. So yeah, I hope we do find a way to make it all work. I’m certainly going to try.”

Blaine shifted a little closer to Kurt and said. “Me too.” 

Kurt smiled and draped his arm around Blaine’s shoulders and pulled him just a little closer. They could do this.

BKBKBKBKBK

They were both reluctant to leave their room when it came time for dinner that evening, but eventually, they had to do just that. Neither of them had thought that they might have a kitchen, so they hadn’t bothered to get any food. And while the idea of ordering pizza was appealing, they knew that eventually, they would have to face their fellow students. So, they reluctantly grabbed their jackets and headed toward the dining hall.

“You think Wes and David said anything to anyone?” Kurt asked as they made their way across the Dalton campus.

“Doubtful,” Blaine said. “They respect privacy.”

“So, no one else knows,” Kurt said thoughtfully. “How exactly do you think we should handle this, then? Should we be upfront or do you want to keep our marriage quiet?”

“I don’t think we’ll have much choice,” Blaine said. “It’s a small campus and someone will have noticed that I changed rooms. They’ll want to know why. And when they see our room, they’ll want to know why we got a suite. Not even the resident advisors have a suite like that. I didn’t even know one existed.”

Kurt grabbed Blaine’s hand and said decisively, “Then we’ll be honest. I’m not ashamed to admit our relationship.”

“Well, the good news is that I don’t think anyone will be jerks about it,” Blaine said. “I mean, the Warblers will all try to be supportive, and the rest of the school will either do the same or ignore it. That’s kinda how they handle anything that goes against the norm, here. I’m sure we have homophobes, but they know better than to say anything because they’ll be expelled. My guess is that this will be pretty similar.”

Kurt nodded and took a deep breath before following Blaine into the dining hall. At first Kurt was sure they must be in the wrong place, because the Dalton dining hall looked nothing like the cafeteria at McKinley. If it wasn’t for the tables of students eating, Kurt never would have seen the similarities. This room was clean and comfortable. The tables were all round with upholstered chairs, instead of the long tables with bench seats. The tables were covered with linens and set with silverware and cloth napkins at each place. It looked more like a fancy restaurant than a cafeteria.

“The food is through here,” Blaine said as he led Kurt through a doorway. The food line behind that door was more familiar, but the food was not. Instead of overcooked pasta or tater tots, this food was actually palatable and healthy. There were several options to choose from and Kurt selected the grilled tilapia with couscous and a side of mixed vegetables. Blaine got a rather nice looking pot-roast. There was a salad bar that could rival any restaurant that Kurt had ever visited. Then there was a selection of desserts and a drinks bar that had everything from soda to coffee to juice to several varieties of bottled water. Kurt selected a sparkling water and then followed Blaine to a table where he recognized Wes and David along with three other boys that Kurt didn’t know.

Wes and David began making introductions while Blaine and Kurt unloaded their trays and then Blaine took the trays off to a nearby stack to be collected later by the staff. Kurt discovered that the other boys were Nick, Jeff, and Trent. They were all three juniors and all three were in the Warblers.

“So, Kurt, are you interested in joining the Warblers?” Wes asked. “We usually hold auditions in September, but we’ve made exceptions for transfer students before.”

“Actually, Blaine and I had discussed the possibility,” Kurt admitted. “And I would love to audition. Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”

“We have rehearsal on Tuesday after the final bell,” David said. “We can do it then. What part do you sing?”

“I’m a countertenor,” Kurt said. 

“That’s great!” Trent said with a grin. “We really need a countertenor. The tenors just can’t get high enough on some songs.”

“So Blaine,” Nick said with a smile. “You’ve been holding out on us.”

“Yeah,” Jeff put in. “You go away for the weekend and show up with a new student—a countertenor at that—and to add the puzzle, the guys saw some workers moving all your stuff to a new room along with what we have to assume was Kurt’s stuff. Wes and David won’t tell us anything, so we’re relying on you to clear up the mystery.”

Kurt and Blaine shared a look before Blaine spoke up. “Um, Kurt and I got married yesterday. It was an arranged marriage and we weren’t given much choice in the matter. But we’re actually pretty happy with the outcome.”

“I’m not sure how my grandmother managed it, but she arranged for us to have a suite,” Kurt said. “So that’s what people saw, her workers moving our stuff into our suite.”

There was silence from Nick, Jeff and Trent as they absorbed that information. Wes and David had already heard it all, so they kept eating while watching their peers carefully.

“An arranged marriage?” Trent finally said. “I didn’t think anyone did that anymore.”

“They don’t,” Kurt said. “Unless you’re a narcissistic sociopath like my grandmother and Blaine’s father who think they can control the lives of everyone around them.”

“It has to do with a business merger,” Blaine offered. “But Kurt basically forced both families to cut us loose if we agreed to go through with it. So now we’re emancipated and have enough money to live comfortably for the rest of our lives.”

“I wasn’t about to let them force us to do something like that without getting something back,” Kurt said. “No matter how much pressure they put on us, they couldn’t make us sign a marriage certificate. But they could make our lives hell, so we negotiated a deal.”

“What kind of people use their kids as business negotiations?” Nick wondered with disgust.

There wasn’t an answer for that, and the table fell silent for a minute. Eventually, Jeff broke the silence. “So, a suite, huh? Does that mean we can have movie nights in your room?”

They all laughed and the tension was broken. “I think we can arrange something.”

BKBKBKBKBK

That night, Kurt got ready for bed, going through his normal moisturizing routine. He felt a little self-conscious since this was the first time that he had ever had anyone around to see the elaborate procedure. But Blaine didn’t seem to find it strange at all. In fact, he watched Kurt in fascination. 

“No wonder your skin is so perfect,” Blaine finally said after watching for a good ten minutes. “Do you think I could do with a little more skin care?”

Kurt turned to face his husband and smiled. “Everyone could do with a little more skin care.” He got up and walked over to where Blaine was standing in the bathroom doorway. He ran a hand down Blaine’s cheek. “Your skin is actually in decent shape, considering you only use a simple face wash and all-purpose moisturizer. But I think if we purchased a few products that are made specifically for combination skin, then you’d be able to see and feel the difference.”

“I can’t just use what you use?” Blaine asked.

“I have dry skin,” Kurt said as he went back to the counter to finish. “So I’m constantly trying to hydrate without using products with pore-clogging oils. They wouldn’t help you. Plus, you aren’t as fair-complexioned as I am, so you don’t need as much protection from the sun. Don’t worry; we’ll get the perfect products for you. Drinking more water and eating healthier will help as well.”

“I eat healthy,” Blaine protested. “Well, most of the time, anyway. I do like the occasional pizza or cheeseburger.”

“Believe me, so do I,” Kurt admitted. “But both are hell on the complexion. I have to admit that the food choices here are a lot healthier than anything we ever had at my old school.”

“Nothing but the best at Dalton,” Blaine said. “We certainly pay enough in tuition to make sure of that. We have an appointment with the guidance office in the morning.”

“I know that I have to go see them to get my schedule,” Kurt said after he finished washing the remains of moisturizer from his hands and then used hand lotion. “But why do you have to meet with them?”

“Two reasons,” Blaine said. “I’m pretty sure that they’re going to assign me to be your student guide. You know, make sure you don’t get lost going to classes. And the second reason is because I need to give them copies of the paperwork for my name change and emancipation.”

Blaine and Kurt headed back into the bedroom and went to opposite sides of the bed. “I still can’t believe you did that. Why would you change your name?”

Blaine slid into his side of the bed and glanced at Kurt. “Because I don’t want to carry the name of the man who sold me off to the highest bidder. And because you’ve shown more kindness to me in the brief time that we’ve known each other than my father has since I was tested as a carrier.”

Kurt, who had joined Blaine in bed, pulled him closer and they simply held each other. “I’m sorry.”

“Do you think it’s weird that I feel so comfortable with you?” Blaine asked quietly. “I mean, you make me feel safe and comforted and yet we barely know each other.”

Kurt smiled. “I don’t know if it’s weird, but I feel the same way. I feel like we’ve known each other forever. And we may not know all the details yet, but I think we know enough.”

“Hmm,” Blaine agreed sleepily. “What’s your favorite color?”

“It depends on the circumstance, but I’d say either black or purple,” Kurt said quietly. “You?”

“Blue, but not just blue,” Blaine said. “Teal blue, like your eyes sometimes get. Pretty.”

“I think you have pretty eyes too,” Kurt said. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Blaine said around a yawn.

BKBKBKBKBK


	27. Jake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt and Blaine are newly married and living out their dreams when they get a call. Tragedy leaves them raising Jake, Kurt's baby half-brother.

Kurt was waiting for his turn to audition when the call came in. Normally, he would have ignored any call, wanting to concentrate on preparing himself mentally for the audition. Especially since this was a callback. He’d already made it through the first two auditions and was in the final running for the part of Pippin. It wasn’t his dream role, but the production was brilliantly revamped and he really thought he could be amazing in the part. If he was given the chance.

But then there was that phone call. He recognized Lima’s area code, but not the number.

“Kurt Hummel?” The stage manager called out.

Kurt’s gut was churning, but he set the phone aside with his bag and headed for the stage. Kurt had shown the producers his amazing voice and acting chops in previous auditions. This callback was to see how he danced. There had been several sessions with the choreographer to prepare, but Kurt knew that he was good. Not only had 4 years at NYADA trained his body into a much better dancer than he could have ever imagined back in the days when his best move was a shimmy of his hips, but the acrobatics of three years on the Cheerios gave him a leg up on most of the other performers. 

Unlike the original production of Pippin, this one was updated with precisely choreographed acrobatics entwined with the dancing. And Kurt was more than prepared to wow the producers with his skills.

So setting aside all thoughts of mysterious phone calls, Kurt walked out on stage and performed like he had never performed before.

BKBKBKBKBK

In the euphoria that Kurt always felt after a great performance, Kurt almost forgot about the phone call as he dried the sweat from his face with his towel and gathered up his belongings. It wasn’t until he saw that there was a voicemail waiting for him that he remembered the earlier call. Suddenly, his heart was racing, and it had nothing to do with the tumbling and dance routine he had just completed.

With shaking hands, Kurt called up the voice message and listened. “Mr. Hummel, my name is Officer Janice Fields from the Lima Police. Please call me as soon as you receive this message. It is of the utmost importance.”

The woman rattled off her direct line and Kurt had to replay the message three times before he felt confident that he could remember the number. Then he dialed.

“Officer Fields.”

Kurt nervously cleared his throat. “Um, yes, this is Kurt Hummel. You left a message that I should call.”

There was a slight hesitation before the woman spoke. “Yes, thank you for getting back to me so quickly. Mr. Hummel, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

Kurt slumped onto the bench where he had left his bag earlier and listened as this kind and sympathetic voice imparted news that would forever change Kurt’s life. He listened as she explained about the accident. How there was a drunk driver that slammed into his family’s car.

“Please… just… Are they okay?” Kurt finally choked out.

“I’m sorry Mr. Hummel,” the officer said gently. “Your father and stepmother were both killed on impact.”

Kurt felt a sob escape but tried to rein in his emotions. “What about Jake?”

“Your brother is alive,” she told him. “He was protected from the worst of the damage thanks to his car seat. He’s currently at Lima General for observation, and I’m sure the doctors will tell you more, but he’s going to be okay.”

Kurt was immediately on his feet and rushing out the stage door. “I’ll be on the first flight out.”

“Jake is in good hands,” the woman told him gently. “The doctors are all taking good care of him. And there is a woman from family services watching out for him until you arrive.”

“Thank you,” Kurt said.

He was already flagging down a cab. He had to get home and pack a bag. He had to get to Jake and make sure he was okay. And as long as he could concentrate on that, he didn’t have to think about the fact that his world was crumbling around him.

BKBKBKBKBK

“How was the audition?”

Kurt didn’t answer as he rushed from the front door to the bedroom of the apartment he shared with Blaine, his high school sweetheart, long-time boyfriend and now husband. They had been engaged since Blaine graduated from high school and had just gotten married a few months earlier, after Blaine graduated from NYADA. Despite getting engaged so young, Kurt had insisted that they shouldn’t rush the wedding. He wanted it to be perfect and perfection took time. And their wedding had been perfect.

“Kurt?” Blaine asked with concern as he entered the bedroom to find Kurt randomly pulling things from their closet to toss into a suitcase. That was not how Kurt packed for anything. He was methodical and organized. Blaine pulled his frantic husband to a halt and wrapped his arms around him. “Kurt, what’s going on?”

Kurt stood stiffly in Blaine’s arms, though he was trembling. And then, as if he was crumbling, Kurt let himself go, trusting that Blaine would catch him. “They’re gone,” he whispered brokenly. “Ac-accident. Dr-drunk driver.”

“Oh my god,” Blaine said, feeling like he had been punched in the gut. “Kurt, who’s gone?”

“Dad, Carole…” Kurt choked out. “I have to get to Jake.”

“Jake’s okay?” Blaine asked, still reeling from the news that the people that were more his family than his blood relatives, were gone.

“The police… they said he’s okay,” Kurt said. “Observation… I have to go to him. He’s got to be scared. And he’s all alone…”

Blaine pulled Kurt tighter and that seemed to be the cue for Kurt to break down. Suddenly he was sobbing into Blaine’s shoulder and Blaine was crying too as he tried to soothe his husband’s grief. They somehow ended up on the bed, just clinging to each other.

BKBKBKBKBK

Neither Kurt nor Blaine would be able to look back and recall exactly how they had gotten from their apartment in New York to the hospital in Lima. It was all a blur of pain and grief and a crowded flight. But they did make it there. And they found Jake sleeping peacefully, with just a few cuts and bruises to show for his traumatic experience. The social worker looked them over skeptically when Kurt introduced Blaine as his husband, but couldn’t say much. Ohio might not have passed same-sex marriage laws, but the recent changes in the federal law required all states to recognize marriages performed in other states and prevented discrimination on a lot of other issues, including adoption and custody.

Jake’s doctor, it seemed, was just waiting for someone to claim him. It had been almost 24 hours since the accident by the time Kurt and Blaine actually arrived. He had plenty of time to do tests and observe, and had concluded that Jake Hummel was perfectly healthy.

“Babies are a lot more resilient than most adults in these situations,” the doctor said. “Not only was he protected by his car seat, but he was also furthest from the impact.”

“Will he remember any of it?” Kurt asked quietly.

“It’s unlikely,” the doctor said. “At his age, he might have a few bad dreams, but they should fade with time.”

Kurt leaned over his sleeping brother and tucked a stray lock of hair off his forehead. He was so small. And yet he had grown a lot in the three months since Kurt and Blaine had seen him last. He looked so much like Kurt had at that age, though his hair was a bit lighter and his eyes were green, instead of blue.

“I’m going to sign the discharge papers, and then you can take him home,” the doctor said. He left the two men alone in the room with the sleeping toddler.

“What are we going to do, Blaine?” Kurt asked quietly, his eyes never leaving his sleeping brother.

“We’re going to do whatever it takes to make sure that Jake grows up happy and loved,” Blaine vowed.

BKBKBKBKBK

When Carole and Burt Hummel had called up during Kurt’s junior year of college to tell him that she was pregnant, Kurt had been shocked. He supposed, later, that it shouldn’t have been such a surprise. Carole had gotten pregnant with Finn very young and she was just barely forty when she got pregnant for the second time. And Jake helped all of them heal a little after the loss of Finn.

Kurt had fallen in love with his baby brother the very first time he had held him. Since then, Kurt had come home to Lima as often as possible, usually with Blaine in tow. Even though Kurt had always been close with his family, Jake was the real draw to come back so often. He changed so much between visits and Kurt didn’t want to miss a single thing.

Blaine, after years of being Kurt’s significant other, felt like the Hudson-Hummel house was more home than his parents’ house ever would be, had been just as enchanted by Jake. It was like he was getting a baby brother to love, as well. He already had a father in Burt who would always love and accept him, and a mother in Carole who wanted to watch over all four of her boys. But Jake was like the glue held them all together and bound them as a real family.

When Kurt and Blaine carried a still sleeping Jake through the front door of the Hudson-Hummel home, however, neither of them was prepared for the wave of grief that hit them. The house was so silent, as if it knew that the occupants were never coming back. Taking a deep breath, Blaine carried Jake into his bedroom and pulled off his shoes and pants before tucking him into bed. Kurt stood in the doorway and watched over them in silence. Then, as if by arrangement, they walked to the kitchen together and Kurt began preparing tea for them both.

“There’s so much to think about and so much to do,” Kurt sighed as he leaned against the counter and waited for the water to boil.

Blaine walked over and wrapped his arms around his husband. “We don’t have to have all the answers tonight.”

Kurt nodded and let himself lean on Blaine. “We’ll need to call funeral homes tomorrow. And I need to talk to Pete, from the shop. He’s talked about wanting to open his own shop. He might be interested in buying the garage. At the very least, he can keep things running until we figure everything out. Then there’s dad’s lawyer… We’ll need to figure out what to do with the house…”

“And we can figure all that out later,” Blaine said. “It’s too late to do anything tonight.”

Kurt nodded dully. “Are you hungry? I could see what’s in the fridge.”

“Not really,” Blaine said as he finally let Kurt go and went to sit at the table. A few minutes later, Kurt set a mug of tea in front of him and took the chair beside him. “You said we’d need to sell the house. I suppose that means you want to take Jake to New York with us?”

Kurt nodded. “I can’t come back here, Blaine. Not to live. And just imagine how awful the other kids would be to him if they found out he was being raised by two men. Rachel told me stories.”

“I know,” Blain sighed. “Things may have gotten a little better, but kids can still be cruel. Especially when they’re repeating things their parents say at home. So we take him to New York. We’ll need a bigger place.”

“And that means more money,” Kurt said dejectedly. “And there will be other expenses that come with raising a child. Maybe I can see if Isabelle is willing to hire me full time.”

“It’s something to think about,” Blaine agreed. “But I think you should wait to see what happens with Pippin first. In the meantime, I was going to tell you that I was contacted by the lawyer handling my grandmother’s estate. It seems there was a clause in her will that releases the trust to me early if I’m married. I don’t think she ever imagined that it would be possible that I would marry a man legally, but…”

“So we don’t have to wait until you turn thirty?” Kurt asked with some relief.

Blaine shook his head and took Kurt’s hand. “The paperwork is already being processed. We should get a rather substantial check by courier in the next couple weeks. So that should help make things a little easier.”

“How much is substantial?” Kurt asked.

“I’m not really sure,” Blaine admitted. “The lawyer said that he didn’t have a final tally because of the fluctuations in the market. I kind of lost track after that. You know I have no head for that stuff.”

“Alright,” Kurt said. “I suppose I can hold off making any major life changes until we see how much money is coming in and if I got the part.

“Did you let the theater know you wouldn’t be around for a while?” Kurt asked. Blaine had gotten a job right out of NYADA working as the musical director for one of the more popular off-Broadway theaters. He had surprised Kurt and himself when he had changed from a performance track to something more behind the scenes, but Blaine loved what he did, and he was very talented. He could and would go far in the business. He was already getting offers from other theaters trying to steal him away. And he was also working on a score for a new show that Kurt thought was absolutely brilliant.

“I called Tom,” Blaine said. “He said he completely understands and I should take as much time as I need.”

“Oh god,” Kurt moaned. “I didn’t call Rachel.”

Blaine sighed. “We’ll call her tomorrow. There’s nothing she can do tonight.”

Kurt nodded. “I know she’s with Michael these days. I know it was years ago, but I don’t think she ever got over losing Finn. But Dad and Carole always made sure she felt like part of the family. ”

“Your parents touched a lot of lives," Blaine said. "They were everyone's parents in some ways. I should call Sam tomorrow, too. Then I'll call Tina and ask her to let the rest of New Directions know."

"I should call Puck personally, too," Kurt said. "Carole was like his other mom."

"Where is he stationed these days?" Blaine asked, more for something to say that didn't have to do with their loss than because he was truly interested.

"Germany," Kurt said. "Actually, with the time difference, I might be able to catch him now. It's about six in the morning there, I think."

Kurt reached for his phone to look up the time difference and the contact information before reaching for the house phone. That was one call that would be cheaper made from a LAN line.

Blaine went to the fridge to pull out the makings of an omelet. He wasn't hungry, but neither of them had eaten since breakfast and it would keep him busy while Kurt made his call.

Twenty minutes later, they were both picking at their food. "Puck said he wasn't sure how quick he could make it back, but I promised that as long as it was this week, we'd hold off the funeral until he and Quinn could get here."

"I didn't know she had made the move with him," Blaine said.

"Neither did I," Kurt sighed. "He said she joined him after finishing up her business degree last year. Now she's working for some company over there and they are supposed to get married when he's got leave this summer."

"And it only took them how many years?" Blaine asked with a wry smile.

"I'm sure that many people said the same about us," Kurt said dryly. "And we lived together all that time, not on different continents."

"You have a point," Blaine said and then yawned. "I think maybe we should head for bed. "It's after one, and we've got a lot to do tomorrow."

Kurt let Blaine pull him towards the stairs, and for just a moment, it was like they were back in high school again, sneaking up to Kurt's room. But the moment passed and Kurt was left with the wrenching knowledge that Carole and Burt were no longer there to tease them about sneaking away for some alone time. 

Kurt was in tears before they ever reached the room he and Blaine now shared whenever they were home for a visit. Blaine helped him undress and then pulled him into bed. Together, the two clung to each other and cried until they were too exhausted to stay awake.

BKBKBKBKBK

Despite their late night, Kurt was up before the sun and had begun some therapeutic baking before Blaine came down with a sleepy Jake in his arms.

"Look who I found awake," Blaine said with a smile.

As soon as Jake saw Kurt, he reached for his brother and clung tightly. "Hello to you too, Jake."

"Where mama?" Jake asked in a tearful voice, as though he already knew something was dreadfully wrong. "Where Daddy?"

"Oh Sweetie," Kurt sighed around his own tears as he hugged Jake tighter.

And so Kurt and Blaine sat down and tried to explain death to a little boy who was not even two yet. Jake cried. Kurt cried. Blaine cried. By the end, they were all exhausted. Jake fell asleep, still crying.

"I wish we could sleep too," Kurt sighed. "But we've got calls to make."

BKBKBKBKBK


End file.
